


No One Knows Who I Am

by Marblez



Series: Tomorrow Will Be Kinder [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Blind Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, M/M, Original Character(s), Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-01-18 02:27:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 61,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1411549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marblez/pseuds/Marblez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adya knew the moment his name was picked out of the bowl that he would not be coming back from the 74th Hunger Games…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. District 8, Reaping Day

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Hunger Games or any of its characters. The many OC’s, however, are mine. :-)

Summary: Adya knew the moment his name was picked out of the bowl that he would not be coming back from the 74th Hunger Games…

**WARNINGS: SLASH! (M/M) VIOLENCE! ANGST! CHARACTER DEATH!**

****

** No One Knows Who I Am **

** District 8, Reaping Day  **

 

            Making his way through the maze of alleys between the textile factories the teenage boy found himself shivering, not because he was cold but because it was so quiet. Normally by this time the factories were alive with noise, layers and layers of noise that overwhelmed his senses – big machines clunking and groaning, little machines whirring and clicking and the constant chatter of the workers.

But today it was completely silent and that could mean only one thing…

            Today was _Reaping Day_.

            Great.

            Leaning against the wall he couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh as he ran his fingers through his knotted hair, pushing the shoulder length locks back from his face and revealing his scarred skin and his glassy eyes.

            _The Reaping_ was something which always featured heavily in his nightmares but then what child of Panem couldn’t say the same?

            Of course, he thought bitterly, they didn’t have his disability did they?

            If they were picked they stood a chance.

            If he was picked he’d be dead in under a minute and he knew it.

            **“Attention! Attention! All candidates for the _Reaping_ must report to the square immediately! Attention! Attention! All candidates for the _Reaping_ must report to the square immediately! Attention! Attention! All candidates…” **

            Perfect.

            Closing his eyes he leaned his head back against the rough bricks behind him and focused on the sounds that he could now hear around him – the sobbing of frightened children, the murmuring of their equally frightened parents and the tapping of their best shoes on the ground.

            He needed to head to his left.

            Using the tips of his fingertips he felt his way along the wall of the factory he’d been leaning against and soon found himself swept up in a group of children all heading towards the square.

            Someone bumped into his side and he stumbled, in fact he would have fallen had someone not caught his arm and held him upright.

            “Hey, you ok?”

            That voice was familiar…

            “Mikhail?” he asked hesitantly.

            “Adya? Is that you?” the voice gasped out, one of the hands remaining on his arm to steady him while the other moved to his face, pushing his wayward hair back once more. “It is you. Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since…”

            “Since the fire…” Adya murmured, nodding in understanding.

            “Yeah…” Mikhail sighed, his fingers stroking the raised scars across the shorter boy’s cheeks. “I thought…I thought that you’d been taken in by someone but…but that’s not what happened is it?”

            “No,” Adya answered with a shake of his head. “I’ve been living on the streets….begging, you know? I…I sing for money or food or…whatever.”

            “But…your eyes…how have you managed to…” Mikhail’s voice shook as his fingers continued to trace each and every scar on his once beautiful face.

            “I’ve managed…” Adya murmured.

            “Next!” an unfamiliar voice barked out sharply.

            “It’s you…your next…wait for me and…and we’ll stick together, ok?” Mikhail’s voice shook as he pulled the boy who he had once considered his best friend up to the little table. Adya nodded in agreement. “Sorry, he’s…um…he’s blind.”

            “Give me your hand,” the unfamiliar voice ordered impatiently.

            Registration.

            Of course.

            He remembered how this worked from the four previous _Reapings_ he’d had the _“honour”_ of taking part in and obediently offered his right hand. A rough hand, presumably it belonged to the unfamiliar voice, took hold of his wrist.

            Ow.

            The tight grip on his wrist pulled his hand down sharply and he flinched when his bloody fingertip came in contact with the smooth paper of the registration form. Pulling his hand in close to his body once his wrist was released he listened to the sound of a scanner beeping softly, logging his attendance with the Capitol.

            “Adya Kaminski, sixteen.”

            He nodded.

            “Next!”

            Someone grabbed him by his and shoved him in what he could only assume was the direction of the boys side of the square.

            “Get a move on!” a gruff voice ordered sharply.

            “I can’t–” he began but cut himself off with a startled yelp as a heavy hand connected with his back, propelling him forwards sharply. He stumbled, his bare feet catching on the cobbles of the square and fell to his knees with a cry of pain.

            Ow.

            “Adya!”

            “That hurt…” he grunted as Mikhail helped him back to his feet, gripping his arm tightly as he helped him across to the group of sixteen year old boys all waiting nervously for the _Reaping_ to begin. “So…how have you been?”

            “Ok,” Mikhail answered softly. “School, you know? We’ve…um…begun learning all about the textile trade and…and what will be expected of us.”

            “Sounds nice…” Adya murmured wistfully.

            **“Welcome! Welcome!”**

Adya felt a trembling hand slip into his own and squeezed the strong fingers slightly, silently offering comfort to his old friend as the heavily accented voice of their Districts publicist echoed through the square.

            **“Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour.”**

            Adya frowned.

            How could the man be so cheerful?

            And…how could his voice be so…high?

            **“Now, before we begin, we have a very special film brought to you all the way from the Capitol!”**

            **“War, terrible war.**

**Widows, orphans, a motherless child.**

**This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained.**

**And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won.**

**The people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born.**

**But freedom has a cost and the traitors were defeated. We swore as a nation we would never know this treason again.**

**And so it was decreed, that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and woman, to fight to the death in a pageant of honour, courage and sacrifice.**

**The lone victor bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness.**

**This is how we remember our past.**

**This is how we safeguard our future.”**

It was the same video that had been played at every _Reaping_ for as long he could remember and even though he couldn’t see it any more he could clearly remember the images that here shown to accompany the Presidents speech.

He remembered giggling about the victor in the tight shorts back when he was a child of barely five years old, somehow managing to find something humorous in such a terrifying and horrific spectacle.

            **“Now the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honour of representing District 8 in the 74th annual Hunger Games. As per usual we shall have ladies first.”**

            There was a long pause during which Adya heard dozens of barely contained sobs from the other side of the square.

            **“Una Butterworth!”**

            A hush fell over the square, broken only by the quiet sobs of the girl who he could only assume was Una Butterworth and the heavy footsteps of the Peacekeepers escorting her onto the stage.

            **“Congratulations, my dear. What an honour for you! And now, the boys.”**

Adya felt his stomach clench with nerves as the second silence stretched on.

            **“Adya Kaminski!”**

            “No…” he gasped, his body beginning to tremble as the realisation sunk in.

            He had been chosen as Tribute.

            He was going to die.

            “Adya…” Mikhail sobbed beside him. “I’ll…I’ll vol–”

            “Don’t you dare!” Adya hissed sharply, turning to the boy who he’d played with all through his childhood, gripping the other boys hand painfully tight. “Better the cripple than someone who has a future, right?”

            “N-No…Adya…”

            “Help me to the stage, Mikhail…please…”

            Both boys were trembling uncontrollably as they made their way slowly towards the stage, murmurs of realisation and understanding spreading through the crowd as Mikhail led Adya by his hands.

            **“Come along, boy, we don’t have all day.”**

            “W-We’re at the steps…” Mikhail whispered tearfully. “Adya…”

            “Goodbye, Mikhail…and thanks.”

            Stepping away from the other boy he reached out with his toes, tentatively searching for the bottom step. Once he was sure where it was he slowly made his way up onto the stage, stumbling when he reached the top.

            **“Stop making such a spectacle of yourself!”**

            “I’m sorry, I can’t–”

            **“May I present our Tributes for the 74 th Hunger Games – Una and Adya! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!” **

 

A/N This story popped into my head whilst I was watching the film and WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE UNTIL I STARTED WRITING IT! LOL! Let me know what you think!


	2. The Train, Reaping Day

** The Train, Reaping Day  **

 

            “I think…I think I’m going to be sick!” Adya gasped suddenly as he felt the train take another sharp bend at its impossibly high speed.

            “What?!” Una cried out loudly from her seat beside him. “Oh! Um…hold on, I’ll find you a…a bucket or something…”

            “Ugh…”

            He was vaguely aware of the sounds of Una hurrying around the large compartment, searching for something suitably.

            Oh, he felt awful…

            His head was so heavy…the pressure on his brain so tight…

            And his stomach…

            “Hurry…” he begged weakly, pressing his hand to his mouth.

            “Oh!” Una gasped loudly, tipping something out onto what sounded like a plate before hurrying back to his side and pressing a cold metal bucket into his shaking hands. “Here! It’s the ice bucket but…but it should do…”

            Ideally he would have murmured his thanks to the kind girl but his stomach chose that particular moment to empty itself of what little food he’d eaten over the last couple of days and it was all he could do to hide his face in the bucket.

           “How disgusting…” their idiotic publicist grumbled loudly from his own seat across the room from them. Adya was sure he’d introduced himself but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what his name was…“What is wrong with you? I hope you’re not ill – we’ve got a very busy schedule to adhere to.”

            “Ugh…no, I don’t think I’m ill…” Adya groaned, grimacing from the smell now coming from the bucket he remained bent over. “I think it’s just…I think it’s just the motion of the train…m’sorry…”

            “I can’t feel anything…” Una mumbled, sounding rather confused.

            “Probably has something to do with…with my senses being all out of what…” Adya mumbled, holding the bucket with one hand and rubbing his stomach with the other. “Ever since I lost my sight my–”

            “What?” their publicist demanded suddenly. “What did you say?”

            “Ever since I lost my sight my other senses have–”

            “You’re…you’re blind?!?” their publicist all but screamed, jumping up from his seat and hurrying over to stand in front of the blind Tribute.

            Adya nodded slowly.

            “…what am I meant to do with a blind tribute?!?”

            Flinching away from the screaming publicist caused his stomach to tumble once more and he only just made it to the bucket in time.

            He barely noticed their publicist storming out as he heaved painfully, feeling worse and worse with each disgusting retch. Finally his stomach settled and he realised that someone was rubbing his back gently.

            “Ugh…” he groaned.

            “I had no idea you were blind,” Una murmured beside him, her voice trembling almost as much as the hand on his back. “I…I don’t know what to say…”

            “It’s ok…” Adya mumbled. “Thanks…for the bucket…”

            “I wish there was more that I could do,” Una sighed.

            She sounded so…nice.

            Adya hated the thought of her entering the Arena in a few days time.

            “How old are you?” he found himself asking.

            Una’s answer was drowned out by the compartment door sliding open with a loud hiss and three sets of feet hurrying into the room, two pairs of boots and one pair of high heels, before coming to a halt just in front of the two Tributes.

            “Let me see your eyes, boy,” a gruff male voice ordered.

            Adya sighed, tilting his face up towards the three adults who were now staring down at him and reaching up with his free hand to push back his hair.

            “Oh!”

            “So it’s true…” the man murmured.

            “…what happened to you?” a woman’s voice asked softly.

            “Do you…do you remember the fire a few years ago that destroyed one of the housing blocks behind Factory 15?” he asked softly, removing his hand and letting his hair fall back down to cover his eyes.

            “Yes.”

            “We…my parents and I…lived in that housing block and…” his voice trembled as he remembered the smoke…the heat of the flames…the terrifying feeling of falling as his father threw him out the window…“They died and I…I was burned so badly that…that I lost my sight…”

            Silence.

            “What are we going to do?” their publicist demanded, his voice impossibly high and as shrill as a cats scream. “I can’t sell a blind Tribute to the people!”

            “You disgusting man!” the woman cried angrily. “You should be more concerned about how we are going to help this poor boy!”

            “That’s your job, not mine!” their publicist snapped angrily.

            “You can’t see at all, boy?” the other man demanded.

            “No…”

            “Then you’re dead.”

            Wow.

            Blunt and to the point.

            “Woof! There must be something we can do!” the woman cried tearfully.

            “Nothing to do,” the man, Woof, said in his blunt voice. “He’s a Tribute.”

            “But…”

            “Um…it’s ok…” Adya spoke up softly, his hand returning to rubbing at his stomach. “I mean it’s not but…but if Una has to go in the Arena why shouldn’t I?”

            Una’s hand had stopped moving across his back, resting between his shoulder blades, the warmth of her skin sinking in through the thin fabric of his shirt.

            “I know…I know that I have no chance of surviving but…but if I can help her by being a distraction…well, isn’t that a good thing?” he asked.

            “Tactics,” Woof murmured. “Always have a good tactic…I had a good tactic…”

            Adya frowned.

            A moment ago the man had been angry and forceful, his words painfully blunt but now…now he sounded almost childish, hesitant and confused.

            “What exactly did you have in mind?” their publicist spoke up.

            “I don’t know but…well…couldn’t we just keep my disability a secret?” he asked softly, holding the bucket tightly in his hands. “At least until it would be advantageous for us to reveal it? If we can get people feeling sorry for us won’t they want to sponsor us…more importantly to sponsor Una?”

            “You can’t hide the fact that you’re blind!” the publicist snapped.

            “I had no idea he was blind,” Una spoke up suddenly. “Neither did you.”

            “I’ll be able to pull it off, with a little bit of help,” he reassured them.

            “I’ll help you,” Una promised immediately.

            “Are you sure? We could go to the Gamemakers…I might be able to convince them to do another _Reaping_ …” the woman murmured softly.

            “No,” Adya said firmly, making the mistake of shaking his head. “It’s like I told my friend – better the cripple than someone with a future.”

            His stomach gave a lurch of warning as the train went round another bend.

            “Oh, not again…” he moaned weakly before burying his head in the bucket once more. Una’s hand began to rub his back soothingly once more.

            “If you’re sure…” the woman sighed.

            “I’m sure,” Adya spoke into the bucket, his voice sounding louder and strangely hollow. “Ugh…I wish my stomach would stop doing that…”

            “Girl! Fetch something to calm his stomach!” their publicist ordered and Adya heard someone hurrying from the room. “I’m going to go and warn the boys stylist – we’ll need some sort of dark glasses to hide those awful scars.”

            Adya shrunk back into his seat, his cheeks flushing red.

            He was self-conscious as it was about his scars, he did not need that idiot reinforcing the fact that he was hideous to look at.

            “What a horrible man,” the woman muttered once the publicist had left, sinking down into the seat opposite him. “Woof, why don’t you sit down with us.”

            “What? What did you say?” Woof asked. “Where are we?”

            Adya frowned.

            “Woof’s…getting on a bit…” the woman murmured apologetically.

            “He reminds me of my Granddad,” Una murmured. “Some days…some days he forgets about my Grandma and goes out looking for her…”

            “I’m sorry,” the woman’s voice was filled with sympathy.

            She sounded just like Una did – nice.

            “Are you…are you our Mentors?” Una asked hesitantly.

            “Yes,” the woman answered. “This is Woof, as you already know, and I’m Cecilia. Our job is to help you make a good impression so that you draw the right sort of attention. We’re also here to give advice throughout your training.”

            Adya heard someone approach from behind.

            “Good. Give him the medicine and then clean away the mess in the bucket,” Cecilia ordered whoever it was that had approached them. “Bring it back straight away though, just in case he needs it again.”

            “Who’s she talking to?” Adya asked Una softly.

            “It’s an Avox,” the girl answered just as softly.

            An Avox – a slave of the Capitol.

            “Let me take the bucket for you,” Una offered, pulling the bucket out of his hands. Almost immediately he felt two small tablets being pressed into his left hand and a cool glass being pressed into his right. “She wants you to swallow them.”

            Blinking in what he thought was the direction of the mute slave he licked the tablets off of the palm of his hand and gulped them down with some of the water. Oh…they’d better kick in quickly or that water would be re-appearing very shortly.

            “So…what’s going to happen when we reach the Capitol?” Una asked once the Avox girl had left, taking the foul smelling bucket with her.

            “Firstly you’ll be worked on by your individual prep teams…”

            “Worked on?” Adya asked, frowning as his words came out slightly slurred.

            “Yes. They’ll clean you up and get you ready for your stylists,” Cecilia explained. “You’re quite lucky in that you’ve got a married pair for your stylists – Oscar and Willow. They always come up with such…interesting costumes.”

            “I hope that a good thing…” Adya mumbled, blinking slowly.

            Wow…he was feeling really drowsy…

            “Then, once you’re ready, you’ll take party in the Tribute Parade. I know it sounds silly but this is really important – it’s the first impression that you give the viewers and all the possible sponsors. You’ve got to try and look calm and confident,” Cecelia continued to explain.

            “No crying,” Woof ordered.

            “No, crying is not a good idea,” Cecelia sighed sadly.

            Adya’s head was feeling heavier and heavier with every passing second but at least his stomach had calmed down now. Resting his head on his hand worked for a little while but soon it wasn’t good enough – he needed to lie down.

            “I’m sorry but…but I think I need to go lie down…” he mumbled.

            “Are you all right?” Una asked worriedly.

            “Yeah, just…whatever those pills were have made me really…really sleepy…” he explained, his head lolling from one side to the other. “Not sick now…just sleepy.”

            “Oh,” Una mumbled, standing up suddenly and pulling on his arm. “Come on, I’ll help you find your room. Um, could we maybe continue with this tomorrow? I…I wouldn’t mind having a shower before dinner…”

            “That’s a good idea,” Cecelia murmured. “I need to call my children…”

            “Girl! Show the Tributes to their rooms!” Woof barked out, his voice sharp once more. Adya stood up from his chair, feeling Una slip her arm into his.

            The soft footsteps from earlier returned and suddenly Una was urging him to move forward, helping him to manoeuvre around the numerous pieces of furniture in the room as they followed the Avox girl.

            He counted two sets of automatic doors before they stopped.

            “Oh, this must be your room,” Una said suddenly.

            Ah, Adya thought suddenly, the Avox’s must communicate with gestures.

            That could cause a little bit of trouble for him…

            “The button to open the door is here,” Una said, taking his hand and trailing it from the window in the door to the button on the wall to the left.

            The door hissed as it opened and the pair of them stepped inside.

            “Could you show me to the bed? I’ll figure out where everything else is later.”

            “Of course,” Una said, leading him across the room and once again taking his hand and placing it on the unbelievably soft mattress. “Can I do anything else for you before I go find my own room?”

            “No, I’ll be fine,” Adya answered. “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome, Adya,” Una murmured, “I’ll see you later.”

            “Ok.”

            Una and the Avox left the room, the door sliding shut behind then and suddenly he was alone…completely alone and surrounded by darkness and silence.

            He’d never heard such silence.

            The lack of noise made him feel…frightened.

            Surely there should be some sort of noise?

            It was only the drowsiness caused by the medication that kept him from hyperventilating as he lay down on the bed, gasping softly as he all but sank into the comfortable mattress.

            That was…weird.

            After living on the streets for nearly four years reclining something so soft just felt wrong and so, with a frown, he pulled the blankets off of the bed and moved down onto the floor.

            There, that was better.

            And then, trying to ignore the terrifying silence surrounding him he closed his eyes and drifted off into the medication induced sleep that beckoned him.

 

A/N (1) Thank you to the people who have read and reviewed the first chapter **already**! I could not believe how quickly the first one came through! LOL!

A/N (2) Also cannot believe that I am posting the second chapter on the same day as the first…I don’t think I’ve **ever** done that! LOL! Please let me know what you think!


	3. The Capitol, Day One

** The Capitol, Day One  **

****

            _Smoke…_

_There was smoke everywhere…_

_Choking him…_

_“A-Adya…go…”_

_“Mum?”_

_“Get out…”_

_It was so hot…_

_The flames were right there in front of him…_

_It was so bright…_

_Too bright…_

_Too hot…_

_It hurt…_

_“Adya!”_

_“D-Dad?”_

_“Adya!”_

_Hands grabbing him around his waist…_

_The window…_

_“Jump Adya…j-jump…”_

_“N-No…hurts…daddy…daddy please…”_

_“You have to jump, Adya…please…”_

_“D-Daddy…”_

_“Jump!”_

_Falling…_

_Falling into the darkness…_

_The never ending darkness…_

            “…no!”

            Adya woke with a scream, throwing the blankets off of his trembling body as he scrambled to his feet, banging his head against what he could only assume was some sort of dresser in the corner of the room.

            He hadn’t had the fire dream in a long time…

            Wait…

            Why was it so quiet?

            Where was all the noise?

            What was going on?

            “Oh…”

            A sick feeling pooled in the pit of his stomach as he remembered the events of the day before – he’d been _Reaped._

            The door to his room opened with a loud hiss.

            “Hello?”

            Silence.

            “Who’s there?”

            Footsteps…the softest of footsteps moved across the room towards him, coming to a halt directly in front of him.

            A hand touched his arm and despite the warning the footsteps had given him he still jumped, flinching away from the gentle touch.

            “U-Una? Is that you?”

            His frown deepened as his left hand was gently pulled away from where it had been held close to his body and was turned palm side up.

            What was…what was that?

            The lightest of pressures was being traced across the sensitive skin of his palm, creating shapes where his flesh tingled…no, not shapes – letters.

            N – O.

            “Who…Who are you?” he asked.

            A – V – O – X.

            “Oh…” he sighed with relief, nodding his head in understanding. “Did you…um…did you need something?”

            U – R – N – E – E – D – E – D – F – O – R – B – R – K – F – S – T.

            He had to ask the Avox to spell the words out on his palm a further five times before he was able to figure out exactly what the mute slave was trying to tell him.

            “It’s time for breakfast?” he asked softly.

            Y – E – S.

            Adya let out a deep sigh.

            Food.

            His stomach clenched uncomfortably.

            No…he wasn’t hungry…

            U – N – E – E – D – T – O – E – A – T.

            “If I do it’ll just come straight back up.”

            M – E – D – I – C – I – N – E?

           He laughed sadly, shaking his head.

            “Unless you’ve got something that can help me to see again I don’t think that there is any amount of medicine that can make me feel better…”

            O – H.

            G – A – M – E – S.

            “Yeah… he sighed deeply. “The Games…”

            His eyes began to sting with unshed tears…

            No.

            No – there was no way he was going to give them the satisfaction of seeing him arrive in the Capitol in tears.

            He would not cry.

            He…would…not…

            Damn.

            Snatching his hand away from the silent slave he wiped furiously at his eyes, smudging dirt over his cheeks as he attempted to obliterate the traitorous tears dripping down cheeks.

            There was a lump in his throat like he’d swallowed an apple whole, a sob he was desperately trying to hold back.

            No.

            He would not cry – he would **not!**

            Fighting against his emotions he somehow managed to gain control of the tremors shaking his thin frame, holding himself still as he struggled his way back behind his most apathetic mask.

            The gentle hand returned to his wrist, pulling his hand forwards so that a soft piece of fabric could be pressed into his palm.

            “What’s this?” he asked, his voice coming out annoyingly choked.

            The hand on his wrist slowly moved his hand up to his face, pressing the soft fabric against his still damp cheeks in such away that the fabric successfully wiped away what remained of the unwelcome moisture.

            “…thank you…” he murmured softly, taking control of the task for himself.

            The door opened with a loud hiss, causing him to jump so violently he nearly dropped the now damp piece of fabric, his hands scrambling to hold onto it as he turned to face the direction of the door.

            “Adya?” Una’s clear voice filled the small compartment. “What’s taking you so long? Woof sent the Avox to fetch you ages ago…are…are you ok?”

            “I’m fine.”

            He sniffed loudly, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand as he pulled himself back together one final time before holding the piece of fabric out towards the silent Avox, offering it to them on an open palm.

            A hand closed his fingers around the cloth before a light fingertip traced out some more letters on the back of his hand,

            U – N – E – E – D – I – T – M – O – R – E – T – H – A – N – M – E.

            K – E – E – P – I – T.

            “Thank you…” he murmured once more, carefully pushing the damp fabric into his pocket. “Una,” he sighed, turning his head towards where he could hear his fellow Tribute breathing. “I’m not sure breakfast would be such a good idea…”

            If only he could blame the unsettled feeling in his stomach on the train…

            “I don’t think Cecelia will let you get away with not having any breakfast,” Una sighed apologetically. “Apparently we won’t get anything more to eat until after the Tribute Parade and as you didn’t eat anything last night…”

            Great.

            “…plus the foods really nice. I’ve never tasted anything like it. And, what with our chances and everything, shouldn’t we enjoy everything we can at the moment? Before it’s, you know, too late?”

            Adya sighed, nodding reluctantly in agreement.

            She was right, he supposed as he felt her slip her hand into his, they really should concentrate on enjoying what little time they had left…

            Wow.

            That was morbid.

            “Lead on then…” he sighed, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

            Together they made their way through the narrow corridors of the train, Una leading him gently by the hand while the Avox followed silently behind them.

            “Don’t you know how to wash, boy?” their publicists harsh voice greeted them as they entered the main compartment of the train. “You look disgusting!”

            Adya felt his face flush with shame and embarrassment.

            Of course he knew how to wash!

            It was just a little hard to wash when you were blind and therefore couldn’t see to find the bathroom in an unfamiliar place.

            He would have been fine back home – there was a well behind Warehouse 5 that hardly got used any more thanks to the newer models that had been installed in the square. Every few days or so he would find his way there, use the old wooden bucket to draw up some water and tip it over his head.

            A simple but reasonably effective way to get rid of the worst of the dirt.

            “Leave him alone!” Una snapped angrily, holding on tightly to his hand. “You’ve done nothing but moan about how had it will be for you to do anything with us all morning so why don’t you do us all a favour and shut up?!”

            Adya snorted loudly.

            Wow…so much for quiet little Una.

            He dreaded to think what that idiot must have been saying earlier to make he so angry with him…

            “Ha!” Woof laughed loudly as their publicist let out a loud (and slightly inhuman) squawk. “About time someone told you to shut up. Well done, girl!”

            “How dare you–”

            “Oh, go put on some more make-up or whatever it is you waste your time doing and let us eat in peace!” Una snapped once again as she guided Adya further into the compartment and over to a chair.

            For a few seconds there was silence in the compartment and then their publicist stormed out, muttering about how he deserved to have a better District that this and shouldn’t have to work with such difficult –

            “So…what do you fancy, Adya?” Una asked.

            Her voice sounded normal again.

            “Um…what is there?” he asked, breathing deeply and allowing the many scents in the compartment to wash over his senses.

            Everything was so strong…so vivid…

            It reminded him of the illegal street markets that took place in secret down the back alleys between the factories, all sorts of scents blending together until it was almost overpowering and completely mouth watering.

            “Well there’s toasted bread with butter, jam or something called marmalade,” Una said, pronouncing the last word slowly and carefully. “Then there are all these different kinds of pastries. So fruit…”

            “Fruit?” Adya asked, his head perking up as his mouth began to water.

            He hadn’t had any kind of fruit since he was a little boy…

            “What kinds of fruit?”

            “All kinds,” Una answered cheerfully. “Some of them I’ve never seen before. Would you like me to make you up a bowl of sliced fruit?”

            “If it’s not too much bother,” he answered softly.

            Listening to the sounds of her filling up a bowl for him he found himself leaning back in his chair and actually licking his lips in anticipation.

            If he tried hard enough he was sure he could forget why he was being fed the best food money could buy like a sacrificial lamb being prepared for the slaughter…

            “Here you go!” Una announced brightly as she place the bowl on the table in front of him with a loud thud. “Is there anything else I can get for you? A drink? There’s hot tea, hot coffee, something called hot chocolate, milk, juice…”

            “Is there any water?” he asked as his fingers carefully searched for the bowl.

            “Sure! I’ll pour you a – the Avox is kindly pouring you a glass,” she corrected herself as she settled into the chair beside his. “It’s to the right of your bowl.”

            “Thanks.”

            Picking up the first piece of fruit his fingers encountered he brought it up to his lips. It was cold, ice cold and kind of squishy and the juice was running down his fingers making them feel all sticky and weird.

            Popping the piece into his mouth he moaned at the explosion of taste that hit his enhanced senses, licking as much of the sweet juice from his fingers as he could.

            “I think it’s safe to say that you like strawberries,” Cecelia chuckled happily from wherever she was sat in the carriage, somewhere behind him and to his right. “We can have chocolate covered strawberries for pudding this evening, if you like. Apparently it’s quite a popular desert at the moment.”

            “What’s chocolate?” Adya asked as he picked up the next piece of fruit…only to have it spread between his fingertips as it gave way under the light pressure.

            It was kind of slimy…

            “You’ve never heard of chocolate?” Cecelia gasped in surprise as he licked the remains of the piece off of his fingers, shaking his head in answer to her question as he considered the taste of this new fruit.

            It wasn’t as sharp as the strawberry had been but it was still utterly delicious.

            “I’ve heard of it but my family could never afford to buy any – chocolate is a luxury item after all,” Una reminded their Mentor softly. “By the way, that second piece of fruit was a slice of banana.”

            “ _Banana?_ ” Adya snorted.

            He’d never heard of that either.

            What a funny sounding name for a piece of fruit.

            Banana.

            It sounded like it should just keep going on and on and on.

            Bananananananananana…

            Chuckling to himself he reached out for the glass of water –

            “Oh!” he cried out as his hand came in contact with the glass much sooner that he had expected, knocking it over and sending its contents rushing across the table and down into his lap. “I’m sorry!”

            “It’s ok, it’s only water,” Una hurriedly reassured him as hands armed with many clothes began to mop up the spill on the table whilst also attempting to pat his shirt and trousers dry.

            “There we go, no harm done,” Cecelia murmured for right beside him. “You’d best finish your breakfast – we’ll be arriving at the Capitol in less than an hour.”

            “Joy,” Adya muttered sarcastically, his fingers automatically obeying her order as they picked up the next piece of fruit from the bowl. “As if it wasn’t bad enough, now I get to arrive looking like I’ve wet myself.”

            Una giggled beside him.

            “Shut up.”

            “Sorry…” Una apologised, still giggling however.

            Adya smiled.

            Yeah, he could see what was funny.

            He must look an absolute sight right now…

            “So what’s this?” he asked, waving the piece of fruit in her direction.

            “That would be a piece of apple,” she answered brightly.

            “Right.”

            They continued like this until he had finished every piece fruit that had been in the bowl and quite amazingly it seemed content for the moment to remain in his stomach where it belonged.

            How refreshing…

            “There it is,” Cecelia suddenly announced, her voice coming out a little bit breathless and filled with obvious awe. “The Capitol. It still takes my breath away every time I see it like this.”

            The Capitol.

            They’d arrived.

            “Wow…” Una breathed from her seat beside him. “It’s so beautiful.”

            “I’ll have to take your word on that,” Adya sighed, wiping his juice covered fingers on his still damp trousers in an attempt to get rid of the unwanted stickiness.

            What was a little more dirt when he suspected that he already looking like he’d been dragged through a hedge…backwards?

            “I’m sorry, I should have thought…” Una apologised quickly.

            Adya suspected that she was probably blushing.

            “It’s ok,” he reassured her honestly. “You can tell me about it if you want to. I think I’d like to know what it looks like so I can sort of picture it in my mind…”

            “You sure?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Well…it’s…it’s so shiny…” Una answered eventually after a thoughtful pause.

            “Shiny.”

            That was the best she could come up with?

            “Yeah,” Una chuckled nervously. “Everything about it is so shiny – the water surrounding it and the buildings…everything looks like it’s sparkling in the sunlight. And the buildings…some of them are so big! Bigger even than the factories back home…they look like they’re tall enough to touch the sky!”

            “Wow…” Adya muttered, trying to picture the scene she was describing.

            “Yeah, and – oh!” Una gasped, cutting herself off suddenly. “We’ve gone into some sort of tunnel. I can’t see anything any more.”

            “That’s because we’re coming into the station,” Cecelia explained just as Adya felt the train begin to slower, the brakes making a strange sort of grating sound. “We’ll be getting off soon.”

            Noise filtered in through the open windows of the carriage.

            “I can hear people…” Adya murmured as his sensitive ears began to pick up the excited chatter of many people getting loud and loud as they got closer and closer. “Lot’s of people…”

            “Me too – oh!” Una broke of with a stunned gasped, her hand moving to grasp hold of his tightly. “That…that would explain it…”

            “What?” Adya asked with a frown. “What explains it?”

            “There…there are so many people…” Una whimpered.

            Adya reached out to take her hand in his, offering her some silent comfort.

            “Don’t worry, they wont be here for you,” their publicist snapped coldly as he returned to the compartment. “They’ll be here to see the obvious favourites – the Career Tributes and that volunteer from District Twelve.”

            “Hixas…” Cecelia grumbled loudly in obvious disapproval.

            So that was his name – Hixas.

            “What? It’s the truth and you know it, Cecelia,” Hixas snapped. “They’ll want to see the ones who actually stand a chance of winning, unlike these two…”

            “Hixas!”

            Wow.

            Nothing like a vote of no confidence to start the day.

            Poor Una.

            He should be encouraging her or…or reassuring her…

            Sure, he was a lost cause…an easy kill but she still stood a chance…

            Didn’t she?

            “Come on, we need to get them to their prep teams,” Hixas continued calmly. “The sooner they get to work on them the better. Especially the boy. It’ll be a struggle to get him looking halfway decent in time for the Tribute Parade.”

            “Can I hit him?” Una asked softly, her teeth gritted as she held herself back.

            “Wait until you’ve learned to do the most damage,” Adya advised with a rather wicked chuckle. “Then strike when he’s least expecting it. He deserves a broken nose at the very least. That’s what I’d do if I could.”

            “Good plan,” Una agreed, her voice grim with determination. “I’ll make sure to hit him twice – once for what he’s said about me and once, hopefully the harder more damaging, for what he’s said about you.”

            “Thanks.”

            “Hurry up you two! The more time your prep teams have to work, the better!” Hixas snapped loudly from the other side of the compartment.

            “Just wait until the opportune moment…” Adya mumbled, squeezing Una’s trembling hand tightly. “It’ll come. We just have to wait.”

            “Yeah…”

            And so reluctantly the two tributes followed Hixas out of the compartment and onto the unbelievably busy station.

 

A/N Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter but things have been going really badly at work meaning lots of overtime – our ceilings leaking all over our shop floor. Joy. (Please note that I am being sarcastic.)

A/N 2 I’ll try and update ASAP but I’m going away to take part in a parade with my cadets until next Wednesday and I don’t want to risk my laptop getting stolen or damaged so I am being reduced to notepads.

A/N 3 Comment and suggestions are welcome. : )


	4. The Capitol, Day One

** The Capitol, Day One  **

 

            “Whoa!”

            Adya’s shocked cry was almost completely drowned out by the noise of the crowd currently surrounding them but Una, pressed uncomfortably close against his side just about heard him and asked,

            “What’s wrong?”

            “Someone just touched my bum!” he replied angrily.

            That was in fact a huge understatement – the hand on his rear had not only touched it, it had squeezed. Hard.

            “We’re nearly at the car,” she reassured him loudly.

            The tone of her voice made him suspect that his wasn’t the only bottom that had suffered during the short journey between the safety of the train and the car waiting to take them on to the next stage of the games.

            “What a bunch of perverts…” he muttered angrily as they reached the car, Una discretely helping him into the vehicle.

Hixas climbed in last, slamming the door behind him.

            The silence that followed was heavenly, only the constant purr of the vehicles engine as it moved along disturbing the peacefulness…but of course it couldn’t last.

            “Can you get us their any faster?” Hixas demanded, his attention focused for the moment on their poor driver. “The boy will need far longer than the other Tributes, what with the sheer amount of work that will be needed to get him looking even half-way decent.”

            Adya felt the car speed up.

            The rest of the car ride was spent listening to Hixas grumbling loudly about his “unacceptable working conditions,” his stress levels and all about how much extra work it was going to take to “sort them out.”

            “Is it an _opportune moment_ yet?” Una asked through clenched teeth.

            “Sadly not…”

            “Well it’s about time…” Hixas muttered as the car began to slow, shifting in his seat as he gathered his things together.

Obviously they were approaching their destination.

            Adya didn’t know whether or not he should be relieved or frightened…

            “Right, out you get,” Hixas ordered once the car had come to a halt.

            Adya sighed deeply, allowing Una to help him out of the car.

            “Once we get inside I will be handing you over to your prep teams. Their word is law as far as you’re concerned,” Hixas told them, grabbing both of his Tributes by their elbows and dragging them into the building.

            A cold chill surrounded them as soon as they stepped inside and their footsteps began to echo around them.

            This room was big.

            “You will not argue with their decisions,” Hixas continued firmly. “You will not disobey or cause trouble. You will obey every order that is given and you will be polite and thank them for helping you.”

            Yeah, Adya thought bitterly, helping to get them ready for the games that would ultimately lead to their deaths.

            How kind of them.

            “Their jobs are to turn each of you into a canvas for your stylists to work with,” Hixas explained as he continued to lead them through the large building. “Do not make it any more difficult for them than it already will be.”

            “Oh, I’m sure it’s going to be so difficult…for them…” Adya muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as tried to pull his arm away from the tight grip.

            “Stop that!” Hixas snapped at him, shaking him so hard that his teeth knocked together rather painfully. “Come on!”

            As the trio moved swiftly across the room Adya found himself tormented with the sounds of the other Tributes already being worked on by their own prep teams, mostly whimpers of fear and pain with the occasional involuntary gasp.

            It really didn’t help that he couldn’t actually see what was happening, leaving him with no other option than to imagine the worst.

            “Here they are – the girls not too bad but the boys gonna need a lot of work,” Hixas announced, shoving the two of them forwards. “Do what you can with them before the parade.”

            “Look at the state of his hair!” a female voice cried out melodramatically. “I’ll never get those tangles out and when was the last time it was washed?!?”

            “Probably the same time the rest of him was last washed,” a second female voice spoke up, her voice low and filled with criticism. “He’s filthy.”

            “Well it’s going to have to come off,” the first voice announced. “I might be able to save a couple of inches but no more.”

            “He’s too skinny,” a deep male voice muttered. Adya flinched as his side was pinched rather roughly. “Look at him – he’s all skin and bones! You can see his ribs even though that awful top of his.”

            “We’re going to have to scrub him down at least twice,” the second female announced. “Who knows what so of things he’s carrying…”

            “Ew!” the first female practically screamed.

            Adya felt his cheeks flush red as shame coursed through his body.

            Wow.

            And he’d thought Hixas was bad…

            “What about his face?” the second woman demanded sharply. “I can’t tell what we’ve got to work with under all that hair…”

            “Hang on…” the man ordered gruffly.

            What did he…?

            Adya let out a sharp cry of shock as his head was yanked back suddenly as a pair of rough hands grabbed him by his hair, exposing his face to the three people criticising every little thing about him.

            The shocked gasp was shared by all three of the critical voices.

            “Yeah…” Hixas sighed deeply from where he was stood just behind Adya. “He wants us to help him keep _that_ a secret.”

            Adya’s sightless eyes filled with tears as his face was moved from side to side, every little detail being studied and silently criticised by his prep team.

            He’d never seen his scars himself but he’d felt them, felt the raised ridges and strangely smooth skin under his fingertips.

            He knew they must look bad.

            “I’ll leave you to it,” Hixas muttered. “Good luck.”

            Adya heard the echoing footsteps of his publicist’s hasty retreat but was distracted when someone started tracing the outline of his scars.

            “I’ve got some cream that should bring down some of the redness, it won’t get rid of them but it might help to make them a little less noticeable,” the second woman mused thoughtfully, her breath tickling the sensitive skin of his face. “The rest we’ll have to cover with his make-up once he’s in his costume.”

            “Well…I can give him a side sweeping fringe,” the first woman said thoughtfully. “I mean, they’re not in fashion any more but it might help to cover the worst of them, or at least shadow them.”

            “Maybe we’ll get them back in fashion,” the second woman mused.

            “Well it looks like we’ve got a tough job ahead of us, ladies,” the man announced seriously, not releasing his tight grip on Adya’s hair. “Kynthia, you’d better start by chopping off the worst of his hair or we’ll never it clean, not with those knots. Then we can give him a thorough scrub down.”

            “All right, Bob,” the first woman agreed softly.

            “Bob?” Adya couldn’t stop himself snorting loudly in surprise. “Seriously? What sort of a name is Bob?”

            He’d always been told that the people of the Capitol had fancy, exotic names to match their fancy, exotic fashions…not _Bob_.

            “I’ll hold him still for you,” Bob all but growled, his hands releasing Adya’s hair and moving to grip his shoulders.

            Ow!

            “Bob, he’s going to have to sit down,” Kynthia sighed. “There’s no way I can cut his hair this way – you’re both too tall for me to reach properly.”

            Adya yelped as he suddenly found himself bent over at the waist.

            “Oh – ok, that’ll work…” Kynthia mumbled.

            “It doesn’t need to be perfect yet,” Bob growled as his body pressed uncomfortably against Adya’s as his hands kept him firmly in place. “Just hurry up and get rid of those tangles.”

            “I hate doing a messy job…” Kynthia grumbled.

            Adya flinched as a hand suddenly grabbed a large portion of his hair from in front of his face and pulled it up and away from his skin…

            CLICK!

            “Yuck!” Kynthia gagged. “His hair feels disgusting!”

            Her hands returned to his hair, working her way through the tangled mess with her sharp pair of scissors, chopping off chunk after chunk after chunk.

CLICK!

CLICK!

CLICK!

And then finally she was done and his shoulders were released with a shove, sending him stumbling a couple of paces forwards before he caught himself.

            “Oh! He looks even worse than before!” Kynthia wailed dramatically as Adya straightened back up to his full height. “What a mess!”

            Slowly he reached up and ran his fingers through his significantly shorter.

            It did feel messy; he conceded silently, all clumped together and uneven.

            “Bob? Everything’s ready to go over here,” the second woman announced.

            “Right…” Bob murmured.

            Adya let out an undignified yelp when he felt the mans hands moving swiftly down the front of his shirt, popping the buttons open as he went and exposing the dirty skin beneath the equally dirty fabric.

“Hey! What are you doing?!”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Bob scoffed loudly, easily pushing Adya’s hands aside when the young Tribute tried to stop him. “We can’t very well wash all this dirt off you with your clothes in the way, can we?”

Cold air hit his upper body far too suddenly as the shirt was ripped from his torso in one final movement, goose bumps prickling the flesh stretched tight across his bones thanks to his years of malnutrition.

            “Ugh…” Kynthia grimaced loudly. “His skins even worse under his clothes…”

            “What did he do, live on the streets?” the second woman muttered.

            “Yes, actually – I did.”

            Silence.

            Hmm, it seemed like causing uncomfortable silences was getting to be a habit of his, he thought bitterly as he waited for someone…anyone to break the silence…

            “…why?” Kynthia finally asked.

            “Why?” Adya repeated. “Because…well…there was no where else to go…”

            “What about your parents?” the second woman asked with an obvious frown in her voice. “Didn’t they care? Didn’t they look after you?”

            “They’re dead.”

            Silence.

            “We need to get back to work…” Bob muttered gruffly, his hands suddenly tugging at the piece of rope serving as a belt to hold Adya’s trousers up.

            “Hey!” Adya cried out, backing away and actually succeeding in removing the mans hands from his clothing this time. “If they have to come off then I’ll take them off – I’m not having some strange man stripping off my trousers!”

            “Fine. Do it yourself.”

            Letting out a deep sigh he tried to ignore the sounds of all the people in the large room, knowing that there was a fare chance they could all see him right at that moment. His body began to shake and he felt tears of embarrassment and shame well up in his eyes as his fingers pulled at the knot in the rope.

            The rope slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a soft thud.

            As the trousers he wore were too big for him there was no need to undo the buttons at the front, a small tug and they were sliding down his legs.

            Underneath them he was bare.

            “I’ve only just noticed that hasn’t got any shoes on…” Kynthia gasped softly.

            Adya sighed, cupping his trembling hands over his privates as he kicked the bunched up trousers off of his bare feet.

            “Ugh! His feet are black!” the second woman grunted, her voice thick with disgust. “I am not cleaning those!”

            “I’ll take his feet…” Bob muttered.

            “I’ll do his hair…” Kynthia sighed reluctantly.

            “Guess that means I’m doing the rest of him…” the second woman sighed. “Fine – at least that dirt’s spread out, not packed into one place.”

            “Bob, can you get him on the table?” Kynthia asked.

            Adya yelped as he suddenly found himself scooped up into a pair of strong arms and carried a short distance before being dropped unceremoniously onto a cold piece of metal – the table he presumed.

            “Can I have a couple of stiff brushes down here?” Bob asked from the direction of his feet. Something was thrown in the mans direction. “Thanks.”

            Adya yelped as a powerful jet of water suddenly hit his left arm, starting off icy cold but then rapidly warming up to become just a fraction too hot.

            “I’d try and hold still if I were you,” Kynthia advised him softly as the jet of water moved up to his head, the hot water soaking his dirty hair in minutes.

            Two more jets of water started up, one aimed at the centre of his chest and one at the sensitive skin on the bottom of his foot making him yelp and flinch away.

            “She said hold still!” Bob snapped, a hand grabbing his left ankle as the jet of water was moved mercilessly over the ticklish flesh.

            The second woman, whose name he still didn’t know, moved her yet of water all over his body. When it came to his privates he fought hard against her to keep his hands in place but it was no good and his face flooded red with shame as she hosed down his most sensitive area.

            “Pass me one of the bottles of soap, Kynthia,” Bob ordered.

            The three jets of water suddenly stopped and Adya let out a sigh of relief…but then the first of the stiff brushes began to attack his skin.

            “Ow!” he cried out.

            “Stop being such a baby!” Bob snapped, holding his foot in place once more as he scrubbed at the dirty skin.

            Kynthia didn’t use a brush, he soon discovered, she used her fingers. Something that smelled like the fruit he’d had for breakfast was massaged roughly into his dirty hair and then rinsed out with the jet of water.

            She repeated this move six times.

            The second woman was merciless with her brush, scrubbing at every inch of skin between his head and his feet until he felt like he had no skin left. Then she too rinsed him off…before starting the process again…and again.

            “I’ve never seen someone with such dirty feet,” Bob grumbled as he worked, still on the left foot by the time the other two were on their third repeat.

            He hadn’t even started on the right foot yet.

            “Isadora? His face still needs doing,” Kynthia pointed out.

            “I was waiting for you to finish with his hair,” the second woman explained.

            So that was her name.

            Kynthia, Isadora and…Bob.

            “I’ve just got to put some conditioner in,” Kynthia said.

            What she applied next didn’t froth up like the first stuff had but felt cold and almost slimy against his scalp. She massaged it into his hair for what felt like forever before eventually rinsing it out.

            “Close your eyes, boy,” Isadora ordered.

            Seconds after he’d obeyed he felt two things – Bob moving on to his other foot and a soft cloth being rubbed across his face, pressing down onto his eyelids and scrubbing up and down his nose, cheeks and jaw.

            “He looks so much better already…” Kynthia sighed with obvious relief.

            Adya spluttered as one of the jets of water was suddenly aimed at his face and a hand began to rub the hot water over the same places the cloth had just been.

            “Isadora! Try not to drown the boy!” Bob snapped from his feet.

            “His face is clean,” Isadora announced. “You nearly done with his feet?”

            “Nope.”

            “If we flip him over to do his back can finish them that way?” Isadora asked.

            “Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem,” Bob answered.

            Hands grabbed his arm and pulled it across his body, forcing him to roll over onto his front or have his arm ripped from its socket.

            These people did not know the meaning of the word gentle.

            Adya sighed, twisting his head to one side as the stiff brush returned to his skin, scraping its way down his back, across his buttocks and down the backs of his legs. The back of his neck however was clean with the same cloth that had just been used on his face, a semi-gentle hand smoothing his hair up and out of the way.

            Five rinses later and they agreed that he was finally clean.

            After he was dry (thanks to the painful rubbing of three different towels across his abused skin) they dressed him an open backed gown.

            “Right, down you get,” Bob ordered.

            Sitting up slowly he felt for the edge of the table, finding it to be remarkably dry and twisted his body round so that his legs hung over the side. Sliding forwards cautiously until he felt the cold ground beneath his tender feet he finally stood.

            “Kynthia, work your magic on that rats nest of his,” Bob ordered.

            “I’ll just get a chair,” Kynthia said, hurrying off.

            Adya frowned – her feet clicked really loudly…oh, she must be wearing those shoes that the Capitol people liked…what did they call them?

            Oh, stilettos.

            She returned within moment, setting a chair down to his right and guiding him down into it. Her hands forced him to sit up straight and to tilt his head up towards the ceiling of the large room.

            “Yes, I’m definitely thinking that a side sweeping fringe is in order…” she murmured thoughtfully. “I’ll keep a decent length for the rest of the hair; throw in lots of layers that we can play around with later.”

            Once she had decided exactly what she was going to do with his hair she fetched her “kit” and set to work. Adya held perfectly still for fear that those sharp scissors would cut something more than hair off should he dare to move.

            “Give me your hand,” Isadora ordered.

            “What? Why?”

            “I’m going to do your nails while she does your hair,” the woman explained, her hands clasping around his wrist and pulling his right hand away from his body.

            “Define _do my nails_ …”

            “I’m going to clean the dirt out from underneath them, cut them, shape them and buff them so that they look more like nails than claws,” she explained.

            “…ok…” he mumbled softly, flinching as he felt something scraping at the underside of his nails, cleaning out the dirt that obviously hadn’t been washed away. “You’re not…you’re not gonna paint them, are you? I don’t wanna look like a girl…”

            “No, I’m not going to paint them!” Isadora snapped at him.

            Adya fell silent, leaning back against the chair and letting his eyes fall shut, listening to the sounds around him;

Kynthia hummed softly to herself as she worked.

Isadora was completely silent.

Bob was working on something a few paces away, mixing something in a bowl if the sounds were anything to go by.

And then there were the other sound, sounds that came from the other prep teams working on the other Tributes;

_“…your looking stunning, darling…”_

_“…a little bit more I think…”_

_“…now this wont hurt a bit…”_

            _“…right we’ll take you in to your stylist now…”_

            It was shortly after Adya had listened to the twentieth tribute being led off to meet their stylist that Kynthia finally stepped back and announced that her work was done. Isadora had finished with his nails long before.

            “Am I the last one here?”

            “No,” Bob answered. “You’re not the last, not yet anyway.”

            “I didn’t see much body hair on him when we washed him down,” Isadora spoke up calmly. “I don’t think we’ll have to do much more than his face.”

            “Do what with my face?” Adya asked suspiciously.

            “Get rid of that facial hair that you’re obviously just starting to get,” Bob explained simply, taking hold of Adya’s chin and tilting his face up towards him. “The audience want to watch pretty boys…not ones with scruffy bits of fluff on their chin.”

            Of course it would be something like that.

            The cream that was quickly applied to his face seemed to burn into his skin making him his in pained surprise. Thankfully it was wiped away just as quickly.

            _DONG! DONG! DONG!_

“Is that the time?!” Isadora suddenly gasped in horror as the chime rang out loudly through the large room. “That means we’ve only got another hour to go before the Tribute Parade!”

            “We need to get him through to Willow – now,” Bob said firmly.

            Adya yelped as a hand grabbed his wrist and tugged sharply, jolting his shoulder as he was sent all but flying out of the chair.

            “Come on, boy,” Bob growled and Adya had no choice but to stumble after the man who had such a tight grip on his wrist. “Willo–”

            “Finally! What took you so long?” an unfamiliar female voice demanded.

            “Willow! He was a mess!” Bob protested loudly. “It’s taken us this long to make him look even remotely human!”

            “Well you haven’t left me much time to make him look like a star…” the unfamiliar woman grumbled loudly.

Adya could only assume that this was his stylist, Willow.

He flinched as a smooth hand suddenly cupped his jaw, the touch much more intimate than Bob’s rough grip earlier, and turned his face from side to side.

“Hmmm…not bad I guess…” Willow murmured thoughtfully, running the fingertips of her other hands across the raised edges of his scars. “As long as we can hide those scars that is…”

            “Is his hair all right?” Kynthia asked. “I know it’s not really in style any more but we decided it would be better to hide his eyes…”

            “No, its fine, Kynthia,” Willow answered, her hand releasing his chin. “Bob, would you get him into his costume for me while I sort out my kit.”

            Adya was sort of prepared for it when Bob’s rough hands stripped him of the flimsy gown he had been allowed to wear, his hands already in place over his groin.

            “Put these on,” Bob ordered as he pressed something into Adya’s hands.

            “Er…what are they?”

            “Your underwear.”

            “Oh.”

            His underwear turned out to be a rather tight pair of boxer briefs.

            “Now these,” Bob ordered, handing over what was obviously a pair of trousers…a pair of soft…silky trousers. Nice. “They fasten at the front.”

            “Oh, like normal trousers then…” he muttered sarcastically as his hands sought out the zipper. Upon finding it he easily stepped into the trousers and slid them up his legs, frowning at the unfamiliar smoothness.

            “Here’s your shirt,” Bob said as the next piece of fabric was pressed into his hands. “It’s a pullover shirt so there’s no buttons for you to worry about.”

            “Thanks…” he muttered. “So…how do I tell which is the front?”

            “Er…” Bob mumbled, sounding briefly unsure as he took the item of clothing back from the Tribute. There was a rustling sound and then Adya’s hand was grabbed and forced to stroke down across…the ruffles?

It had ruffles?!

            “They go on the front.”

            “Right…” Adya murmured.

            It took him nearly five minutes of struggling to get the shirt on correctly and once it was in place he was even less impressed with it than he already had been.

            Not only was in made of the same material as the trousers but the ruffles were **huge** , dominating the front of the shirt in a ‘v’ pattern that started at his shoulders and travelled down towards his belly button. From what he could feel they continued slightly over onto his back but no where near as dramatically.

            “I feel ridiculous…” he announced with a grimace, running his hands down the ruffles once more.

            Thankfully there didn’t appear to be any ruffle on the trousers.

            “You look fantastic – just how I pictured it!” Willow countered brightly. “Now let’s see what we can do about those scars…”

            Adya was grabbed by his arms once more and dragged over to another chair.

            He was getting rather sick of this…

            “Hold still,” Willow ordered. “And you might want to close your eyes.”

            What followed could only be described as the most uncomfortable forty-five minutes of his life. He had no idea what his stylist was doing to his face – there was a cold liquid that was applied all over his face, then another that was only applied to scars, then a third that also went all over his face, then a powder, then more powder over his scars, then a different type of power that was focused around his eyes, then a line of liquid was drawn along his eyelashes, then another powder was applied to his cheeks, then a liquid was placed on his lips…

            “I feel like you’ve turned me into a girl…” he grumbled loudly once his stylist finally stepped back, letting out a satisfied sound as she surveyed her handiwork.

            “I have not,” she scolded him. “I have merely accentuated the good looks that are hidden underneath those scars. If only you were from a better District I would be able to do so much more…”

            “Er…thanks…” he muttered sarcastically, resisting the urge to reach up and smudge the woman’s hard work out of spite. “…are we done?”

            “Yes, I’ve done all I can for the moment. I’ll have to have more time to work with you before your interview,” his stylist thankfully confirmed and Adya let out a none too discreet sigh of relief.

            Well thank God that was over…

            “Now we need to get you out to the chariot and figure out a way to stop you falling off during the Tribute Parade,” Willow announced, hands once again urging him up and out of the chair.

            “…chariot?!”

            He’d forgotten all about the fact that the parade took place on two wheeled…incredibly unstable…horse drawn…chariots.

            Great.

            At least they were thinking of securing him to it, he could practically see it in his mind – the horse reacting badly, the chariot shaking and him flying off much to the humiliation of his entire District.

            Yeah…that would be brilliant…

            “Wait! He hasn’t got his shoes on!” Kynthia cried out suddenly.

            In no time at all someone had pulled socks onto both of his feet and the heavy shoes he was expected to wear were firmly laced into place.

            Great.

            Now it felt like his feet were made out of lead…

            He hadn’t worn shoes in years!

            “Hat!”

            His stylists cry was the only warning he got before a hat was being pulled onto his head, a hand brushing his newly styled fringe so that it showed just enough.

            Then he was being hurried out of the room, stumbling as his feet refused to move fast enough now that they were weighed down. The rough hands guided him through what felt like a maze of corridors which finally emerged into another large room, this one busy with layers and layers of noise.

            “Finally!” Hixas cried out as they came to a sudden halt. “I was just about to send someone to fetch you…oh!”

            Adya felt a trembling hand slip into his own.

            Una.

            “Well, I must say I’m impressed…” Hixas announced. “You’ve manage to make him look almost good!”

            “Such a charmer…” Adya muttered.

            “I’m still waiting for that opportune moment,” Una muttered beside him, holding onto his hand tightly.

            “I’ve managed to find a strap that we can secure across the back of the chariot,” an unfamiliar male voice announced. “It won’t look good but it should stop any embarrassing incidents.”

            “Right, you two – up onto the chariot,” Hixas ordered.

            “So…how stupid do we look?” Adya asked softly as Una helped him to climb up into their chariot, guiding one of his hands to the edge whilst holding on tightly to the other. “…’cause I gotta tell you I feel pretty stupid…”

            “Let’s just say that at this particular moment in time you are lucky to be blind,” Una muttered, her voice tense with obvious embarrassment.

            “That bad, huh?”

            “Uh…yeah.”

            Adya let out an undignified yelp, clinging to the side of the chariot as the horses shifted restlessly, tossing their heads and stamping their hooves.

            Near by someone let out a cruel bark of laughter.

            The chariot shook again as someone attached something to the back of it, tugging on whatever it was to check that it was firmly attached.

Judging by the series of violent shakes it was.

            “Hey…you ok?” Una asked softly as he stumbled into her.

            “N-No…” he stuttered weakly, accidentally squeezing her hand in his death grip. “I don’t like this…it doesn’t feel safe…”

            “It’s fine…” Una murmured reassuringly, rubbing her free hand up and down his arm. “Once you get used to it you’ll feel safer, I’m sure.”

            “What do you think?” a male voice asked. “That should do the trick.”

            “I suppose it’ll do,” Hixas answered sounding less than pleased as he continued to grumble loudly. “This is so humiliating – none of the other Districts are using a safety strap on their chariots…”

            “You can hold my hand during the Parade if it’ll make you feel better…”

            “Thanks. I–”

            “You will not hold her hand during the Parade! Ugh! Do you want everyone to think your weak? Or worse – a coward?” Hixas demanded angrily.

            Their joined hands were violently ripped apart and Adya found his hand being pulled forwards to hold onto the chariot.

            “You will hold on with this hand and wave to the crowds with the other,” he ordered firmly, pulling the other hand away from the chariots side. “Understood?”

            “Er…yes…” Adya mumbled.

            “You will both wave and you will both smile and you will not embarrass me…or more importantly you’re District.”

            A fanfare sounded.

            **“Ladies and Gentlemen! Please give a warm welcome to the Tributes of the 74 th annual Hunger Games!” **

 

A/N This chapter turned out to be **way** longer than I originally planned – LOL! Comments and suggestions are more than welcomed, they’re encouraged!


	5. The Capitol, Day One.

** The Capitol, Day One.  **

 

            “W-We’re stopping…” Adya mumbled as the unsteady chariot cam to a graceful halt after having made a deviation from the previously straight path, swerving towards the left.

            His hand ached from the tight grip that he’d had on the chariot and he longed to massage the stiffness from his fingers but her daren’t release his hold if they were going to be moving off again.

            “Is…Is it over?” he asked hopefully as his other arm dropped down to his side.

            “I don’t think so…” Una replied softly as a hush came over the large crowd that had gathered to watch the parade.

            **“Tributes, we welcome you.** **We salute your courage and your sacrifice. And we wish you a Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be _ever_ in your favour.” **

Adya flinched, ducking his head as the large crowd erupted into screams once more, calling out to their favourites and clapping their hands as loudly as they could.

            He couldn’t hear anyone cheering for them.

            It seemed as though the crowd was unanimously in favour of District 12…

            The chariot gave a sudden lurch as their horses stepped off once more, following what was obviously a well practised routine that finally took them off of the large parade ground and away from their hyperactive audience.

            Their **loud** hyperactive audience…

            Adya dreaded to think how large that crowd must have been.

            Their horses came to a sudden stop, causing Adya to stumble into the side of the chariot and bounce back against the “safety strap.”

            “Adya!”

            He felt her gentle hands on his arm, her grip surprisingly firm as she helped him to regain his balance in the unsteady chariot.

            “Are you ok?” she asked softly, one of her hands moving to slip into his, squeezing it tightly as he other hand rubbed up and down his arm.

            “Yeah…yeah, I’m fine…” he answered softly, clearing his throat as his voice came out much too unsteady for his liking. “Of course I’ll be even better if you can tell me that this stupid thing is finally over…”

            “Well…everyone else seems to be getting down from their chariots so…yeah; I think it’s over…” Una sighed deeply, her voice filled with relief. “I’ll…um…I’ll try and get this trap un-done so we can get down…”

            “Ok…”

            Her hands left his arm as she turned on the spot and he heard her fiddling with the safety strap, muttering to herself as she tried to undo one of the clasps.

            Apparently it was being quite stubborn.

            “So…” he mumbled, feeling the need to break the slightly awkward silence that had fallen over them as she worked. “…did we win the most stupid costumes award? Or is there someone worse than us?”

            “Um…” Una hummed thoughtfully, her hands pausing for a moment before continuing to work on the clasp as she answered. “No…I think we most definitely won that particular title…although at least ours make sense…”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Well…District 6, for example…they’re _Transportation_ right?”

            “Yes…”

            “You wouldn’t get that from their costumes – it looks like they’ve each got a crescent moon attached to their face,” Una explained, describing the other teams costumes as simply as possible. “And District 9, _Grain_ …their costumes are silver with…like…dots or something all over them…”

            “Huh…you’re right, at least ours makes sense.”

            Una let out a cry of triumph as she finally managed to undo the clasp and flung the “safety strap” out of the way before stepping carefully down to the ground.

            “Let me help you down…” Una murmured softly.

            He felt her hands slip into his, squeezing tightly as she gave a gentle tug, urging him to take a step forwards towards the edge of the chariot.

            “You’re at the edge…”

            Placing his trust in another person was an unfortunate necessity with his disability but that didn’t make it any easier for him to take another step, his foot meeting with empty air before moving down…down…down…and then finally made contact with the ground.

            He let out a sigh of relief.

            “Great…here comes trouble…” Una muttered, gripping his arm tightly as he heard the distinct voice of their publicist getting closer and closer,

            “…how did they do it?! I mean, come on – District Twelve?!”

            “Why’s he making such a fuss about District Twelve?” Adya asked softly.

            “They had the best costumes,” she told him softly, obviously trying not to let Hixas hear her. “They had these black suits that were actually on fire.”

            Adya couldn’t suppress the violent shudder.

            Fire.

            The thing that had stolen his parents…

            Had stolen his sight…

            Had stolen his life…

            He hated fire.

            “They’re coal miners! _Coal miners!_ ” Hixas ranted angrily, pacing back and forth in front of the pair of them. “How can they be the stars of the parade?!?”

            “How could our costumes be beaten by Twelve of all people? They’re supposed to be dressed as coal miners, that’s what they’ve always done in the past!” Willow complained loudly.

            “We’re going to have to go all out on their interview outfits,” Oscar murmured thoughtfully.

            The two stylists dissolved into a rather critical conversation about face shapes, skin tones, hair shades, clothing cuts and styles…

            Meanwhile Hixas was still busy throwing his toys out of the pram.

            Loudly.

            “Hixas? Maybe we should take Adya and Una upstairs and get them settled into their suite?” Cecelia suggested.

            “Ugh! This is a complete and utter disaster!” Hixas cried out melodramatically before storming away from them.

            Someone slipped their arm through his.

            “Come on, the lifts are this way,” Cecelia told him as she stepped off, their linked arms giving Adya no choice but to follow. “The suites are arranged by District so we’re up on the eighth floor.”

            “Fantastic…” Adya muttered sarcastically. “Was the Parade really as bad as he’s making it out to be?” he found himself asking.

            “No,” Cecelia answered quickly…too quickly. “No. It wasn’t bad, not really. And it wasn’t anything you did. You both did exactly what we asked of you and put on a very good show as a result. It’s just…”

            “District Twelve put on an even better one?”

            “Yeah…”

            They arrived at the lifts and Cecelia pulled him close to her side as they stepped inside a small room where the air was somewhat stuffy and the floor seemed to echo beneath their feel like it was hollow.

            “I don’t like this…” Una murmured.

            Adya didn’t think he did either.

            “District Eight.”

            _“Doors Closing.”_

For a moment Adya was confused by the monotonous voice that responded to Cecelia’s request and then he realised that the lift had actually replied.

            Weird.

            “Whoa!”

            All of a sudden it felt like the whole world had suddenly rushed upwards, hurtling towards the top of the building whilst his stomach remained on the ground.

            Una whimpered loudly.

            “Oh, stop making such a fuss!” Hixas snapped, huffing loudly as he muttered derisively, “Anyone would think you’d never ridden in a lift before.”

            “Um…we haven’t…” Adya pointed out as calmly as he could manage whilst clinging to Cecelia’s arm for all he was worth.

            Nope, he definitely didn’t like this!

            _“District Eight. Doors opening.”_

            Once the doors had opened with the familiar hiss Adya found himself being urged gently forwards by his motherly mentor.

            “Whoa…” Una gasped softly.

            “This will be your suite for the duration of your stay in the Capitol,” Hixas announced calmly as they were led into the room.

            It smelled odd, like…like fake flowers.

            “Of course most of your time will be spent in the Training Centre downstairs but in the evenings you will have private lessons with your mentors and of course, some desperately needed sessions with me and your stylists,” he told them calmly, as if he were reciting a well rehearsed speech. “Take to their rooms and help them get washed and changed for dinner which will be served in precisely one hour.”

            A gentle hand touched his other arm, pulling his hand away from his body.

            H-E-L-L-O-A-G-A-I-N.

            Oh!

            It was the Avox that had helped him on the train ride to the Capitol.

            “Hel–”

            “What on earth are you doing girl?!” Hixas demanded angrily.

            A hand slapped the Avox’s hands away from his own, causing him to cry out in defence of the kind slave,

            “Don’t! She was just saying hello!”

            “…just saying hello?” Hixas repeated slowly, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Fondling your hand like a cheap slut is _just saying hello_?”

            “Yes!” Adya answered sharply, his anger rising on behalf of the slave. “She was spelling out the words on the back of my hand! How else do you expect a slave who can’t speak to communicate with a tribute who can’t see?!?”

            Hixas huffed, obviously annoyed by his logical if slightly heated answer.

            The gentle hands returned to his.

            T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U.

            Adya allowed himself to be pulled away from Cecelia who patted his arm comfortingly before releasing her hold on him.

            Following the Avox he soon found himself being led around the many obstacles littering the main room before heading down a wide corridor, eventually stopping at what felt like the far end.

            Y-O-U-R-R-O-O-M.

            T-H-I-R-D-O-N-R-I-G-H-T.

            “Thanks,” he said, hearing the door hiss open in front of him.

            S-H-O-W-U-R-O-U-N-D?

            “That’d might be a good idea – don’t wanna break my neck falling over in my own room, do I?” he agreed with a wry chuckle. “Apparently it’s much more sporting to let one of the other Tributes do it.”

            The first thing she did was place his hand on the wall to the right of the door. She then led him along the wall until they came to the first obstacle.

            D-R-E-S-S-E-R.

            Feeling his way round the dresser they continued to follow the wall until they found the first corner of the room.

            Only a couple of paces along the second wall she stopped him and made him crouch down, placing his hand on what felt like the edge of a step.

            Odd.

            B-E-D-O-N-A-P-L-A-T-F-O-R-M.

            “Oh, I see…” he mumbled softly, feeling along the ledge until he felt the soft fabric of the bed sheets. “That’s a bit…weird…”

            T-H-A-T-S-T-H-E-C-A-P-I-T-O-L.

            Adya let out a bark of laughter.

            They followed the platform around the bed, Adya counting his paces so as to remember how big it was, and soon they were back at the wall.

            T-W-O-S-T-E-P-S.

            “Ok, thanks for the warning…”

            The two steps in question weren’t all that big…in fact it felt like only the front half of his foot actually fitted on them.

            Once again they reached a corner of the room and as they turned Adya felt the familiarly cool touch of glass beneath his fingertips.

            B-I-G-W-I-N-D-O-W.

            As he trailed his hand across the glass he realised that she wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest – the wall was the window.

            All of it.

            “Only in the Capitol…” he muttered with a shake of his head.

            Together they easily navigated another corner and quickly came across a small door set into the wall.

            B-A-T-H-R-O-O-M.

            His hand brushed against the button that opened the door and together they stepped into the other room.

            S-H-O-W-E-R?

            “I-I’ve never had a shower before…” he told the Avox apologetically.

            T-H-A-T-S-O-K.

            I-C-A-N-H-E-L-P-Y-O-U.

            “Um…I don’t know about that…” he muttered, biting his bottom lip as his cheeks flushed a deep red at the thought of yet another person seeing his naked body. “I’ll just…I’ll just…um…”

            I-W-O-N-T-P-E-A-K.

            I-P-R-O-M-I-S-E.

            Adya let out a deep sigh, nodding his consent.

            He quickly learned that “getting washed and changed for dinner” was a lot more complicated than it sounded.

            Firstly the shower.

            When the Avox had turned the thing on it had instantly reminded him of a thundering storm back home – droplets of water pounding away at the ground.

            He was too nervous to ask whether or not the water would be cold.

            Before he could even get into the shower though he had to stand very still as the Avox used a sweet smelling wipe to remove the make-up that had been applied to his face for the parade.

            D-O-Y-O-U-N-E-E-D-H-E-L-P-T-O-T-A-K-E-Y-O-U-R-C-O-S-T-U-M-E-O-F-F?

            He’d mumbled something, flushing red as he shook his head and set about removing what he imagined to be a truly hideous costume from his body, dropping it to the ground with little care.

            He kept his underwear on.

            Stepping under the powerful spray he was pleasantly surprised to find that the water was pleasantly warm, not too hot and not too cold.

            It was perfect, actually.

            As he stepped out from under the powerful spray a fluffy towel was pressed into his hands.

            “Thank you.”

            The water cut off as he began to rub the soft towel across his damp skin.

            Wrapping the towel about his waist he held it tight around his body with one hand whilst he awkwardly removed his soaking wet underwear, allowing it to fall to the floor with a loud “plop!”

            Drying his legs without removing the towel from about his waist was…interesting to sat the least but somehow he managed.

            D-R-Y-U-N-D-E-R-W-E-A-R.

            Blushing a deep red he just about managed to pull on the fresh underwear without exposing himself to the kind Avox and once everything was suitably hidden from view he held the towel out before him, smiling thankfully when a helpful hand removed it from his grip.

            “Thanks.”

            C-L-O-T-H-E-S-O-N-B-E-D.

            Stepping back into the bedroom was like stepping through a wall of cold air, his skin immediately breaking out into goose-bumps.

            With the Avox’s help he was soon dressed in a loose shirt and a pair of drawstring trousers. He refused the offer of socks and shoes, preferring to keep his feet as bare as he was used to.

            B-R-U-S-H-Y-O-U-R-H-A-I-R?

            “Er…sure…go ahead…”

            He was half expecting the same rough treatment his hair had suffered through before but when the comb was applied to the damp strands it was done so gently and slowly.

            “Mmm…”

            His eyes went with and his cheeks flamed from the embarrassment coating through his system having just moaned…loudly.

            T-I-M-E-F-O-R-D-I-N-N-E-R.

            Great.

            Yet another opportunity for him to humiliate himself.

            They made their way back out to the main room of the suite, his arms clasped tightly in the Avox’s grip as they navigated their way to the dining table which, like his bed, was apparently situated on a raised platform.

            How…pointless.

            “Thanks…”

            Slowly he took his seat, carefully feeling out with his hands first.

            “Nice of you to join us,” Hixas muttered sarcastically before snapping loudly. “Where’s the girl? If the cripple can make it to the dinner table on time she should certainly be able to!”

            Adya frowned, his opinion of Hixas dropping with each second that passed.

            “Hurry up girl!”

            “Sorry! I had trouble with the shower. I couldn’t…never mind,” Una trailed off, dropping down into the seat beside Adya.

            She smelled really, **really** fruity.

            “It got stuck on the soap function,” she explained softly, leaning across so that she could speak, leaning across so that she could speak only to him. “I looked like a cloud at one point; there were so many bubbles…”

            Adya snorted.

            “So…what do you fancy?” Una asked after a pause.

            Adya turned back to face the table, inhaling deeply and searching through the multitude of smells for anything familiar.

            “Is that cheese?” he asked softly.

            “Um…yes. There’s a cheese loaf or cheese and crackers,” she told him, obviously searching through the food laid out before them.

            “Could I have some of both, please?”

            “Sure!” Una responded and Adya could tell from her voice alone that she was smiling brightly. “Anything else?”

            “Um…is there any fruit?”

            He had a feeling that it would probably be best to stick to finger foods – no need to humiliate himself any more than was absolutely necessary.

            “Oh, there’s plenty of fruit!” she answered brightly. “I’ll grab you a selection.”

            He murmured his thanks, listening as she reached around the table to fill his plate before placing it down in front of him.

            Trailing his fingertips across the tabletop he quickly found his plate and carefully selected the first piece of cheese.

            He’d only had cheese once before in his life, a treat for good behaviour at school, but he remembered that it had been an unbelievably strong taste that had lingered in his mouth and had been absolutely delicious.

            Popping the piece of cheese into his mouth he discovered, much to his relief, that it hadn’t changed one little bit.

            Settling back in his seat he picked at the food on his plate as he listed to the different conversations going on around the large table.

            Willow and Oscar were arguing about what colours would suit Una and himself for their all important interviews.

            Adya hoped Willow didn’t win their argument…fuchsia pink might be the most eye catching colour around but he wouldn’t be caught dead in it.

            Whoops.

            Poor choice of words given the situation.

            Hixas was, of course, moaning about how useless the pair of them were turning out to be and how completely unfair it was that he had to deal with them.

            He was starting to get more than a little bit predictable.

            Adya had a feeling that his next subject for “conversation” would be focused around his despair at being passed over for a “decent” District once again.

                        And down at the other end of the table Cecelia and Woof were…oh, trying to talk to their Tributes apparently.

            Whoops.

            “Sorry,” he apologised softly. “I was…um…thinking.”

            Woof huffed loudly,

            “Thinking could get you killed!”

            “Um…I somehow think that being blind will get me killed long before thinking has anything to do with it…”

            Silence descended on the table.

            It was Oscar who broke the silence this time, announcing quite suddenly,

            “We should dress them in black.”

            “What? I thought you wanted to dress them in green,” Willow protested loudly. “You can’t change your mind mid-argument!”

            “But listen…”

            Adya tuned out their raised voices as a new argument began between them, focused this time on the pros and cons of dressing the two of them in black.

            “Right…you’re blind…forgot about that for a moment…” Woof mumbled, his voice sounding a bit…dreamier than before.

            “I still can’t see how you’re going to get away with hiding the fact that you’re a cripple,” Hixas grumbled loudly. “We’ll be a laughing stock by lunchtime tomorrow, you make my words. A complete and utter laughing stock.”

            “At least they’ll have noticed us,” Una pointed out softly. “Surely even bad publicity is better than none at all. At least they’ll know who we are…”

            Are you trying to tell me how to do my job, girl?” Hixas demanded angrily.

            “Um…no…”

            “Good, because let me tell you–”

            “I reckon you’ll be a threat,” Woof announced suddenly, his words strong and confident once more…despite the fact that they didn’t appear to make any sense. “But the girl…no, she’ll be an easy target.”

            “Come again?” Adya asked, his voice filled with surprise.

            Him?

            A threat?

            Hardly…

            “The Careers have a habit of judging people by their looks,” Cecelia explained, obviously understanding what her fellow victor was on about. “You’re at the older end of the scale so they’ll assume that you know at least something about fighting and surviving. Not to mention you’re reasonably tall and, although you are a little skinny it’s obvious that you aren’t a weakling. Plus you’re good looking, you’ll attract the sponsors that like the pretty boys. They’ll treat you as a threat and target you early on in the Games…”

            “At least until they find out you’re really a cripple,” Woof added calmly. “Then you’ll be an easy kill, same as the girl and they’ll leave you to suffer for a while before hunting you down.”

            “Now there’s a pleasant thought…” Adya muttered sarcastically.

            “Unless of course either of you process any skills which would be helpful in the Arena. Hunting, trapping, knife work, sword play…those sorts of skills get you noticed in Training and may help you to make an alliance,” Woof told them.

            “Er…I doubt very much that my only skill will be of any use at all to anyone in the Arena, especially me,” Adya responded calmly.

            “And what skill is that?”

            “I can sing.”

            “…singing? That is not a skill,” Hixas scoffed loudly. “Anyone can sing.”

            “Yes, that’s true…but not like me,” Adya announced softly, not sounding at all boastful. He was simply stating a fact. “I’ve never met anyone who sings like me.”

            Hixas scoffed loudly once more.

            “And what makes you so special?” he asked, disbelief plain in his voice.

            “The songs that I sing,” Adya answered calmly. “My mother taught them to me before she died – they’re from before the Dark Days.”

            “That’s impossible!”

            “No, it’s not,” Adya answered simply. “My mothers family have always been very musical and the songs have been passed down over the years.”

            “How many do you know?” Una asked, her voice filled with wonder.

            “I honestly don’t know,” Adya replied.

            “You’re lying!” Hixas accused him coldly.

            “I am not!” Adya cried out indignantly. “The only reason I’ve managed to survive since loosing my sight by singing those very songs on the streets!”

            “Will you sing one?” Una and Cecelia requested almost as one.

            “Um…sure…”

            But which one should he sing?

            He didn’t think he could pull off one of the happier songs in his repertoire…not in his current emotional state anyway.

            So one of the more sombre ones then…wait…he knew the perfect one.

_“Where once was light Now darkness falls._

_Where once was love Love is no more._

_Don't say goodbye…_

_Don't say I didn't try…_

_T_ _hese tears we cry Are falling rain._

_F_ _or all the lies You told us,_

_The hurt, the blame!_

_And we will weep_

_To be so alone._

_We are lost!_

_We can never go home._

_So in the end I will be what I will be._

_No loyal friend Was ever there for me._

_Now we say goodbye…_

_We say you didn't try…_

_T_ _hese tears you cry_

_Have come too late!_

_Take back the lies_

_The hurt, the blame!_

_And you will weep_

_When you face the end alone._

_You are lost!_

_You can never go home.”_

            As the haunting melody drew to a close he became aware of the sounds around him once more…Cecelia and Una were crying.

            “Sorry…” he mumbled, ducking his head.

            “No, don’t apologise,” Cecelia ordered softly. “That was…that was…”

            “Beautiful…” Una finished for the emotional woman. “You have…you have a beautiful voice…so full of emotion and…and…”

            “Singing was the one thing that I could still do after I lost my sight,” he found himself explaining. “Plus…it helped me feel closer to my parents. Singing…kept me sane, I guess. It was something I was good at. It gave me a…a purpose…”

            Hixas scoffed loudly once more.

            He was getting good at that…

            “Singing…how useless…why couldn’t I get just one decent Tribute?”

            “That all you can do?” Woof asked gruffly.

            “…yeah, it is,” Adya confirmed with a deep sigh.

            “Well…that won’t be of any use to you in the Arena, will it?” the old man asked, pretty much giving voice to Adya’s own depressing thoughts.

            “No…” he sighed deeply. “No, it won’t…”

 

A/N I was actually going to use a different song for Adya’s first “vocal appearance” but when I was writing this chapter this song popped up on my Playlist and it just fit so perfectly with what I had planned. (If you’re interested the song is ‘Gollum’s Song’ from LOTR: Two Towers.) Feedback would be greatly appreciated!


	6. The Capitol, Day Two

** The Capitol, Day Two **

 

           “In two weeks, twenty three of you will be dead.”

           Adya kept his expression as empty as possible, trying to appear as if the blunt words from the head trainer hadn’t sent a shiver of fear down his spine.

           “One of you will be alive. Who that is depends on how well you pay attention over the next four days. Particularly what I’m about to say.

           “First; no fighting with the other Tributes – you’ll have plenty of time for that in the Arena,” the woman sounded like she was almost trying to reassure them.

           Someone chuckled darkly.

           Adya guessed that it was one of the Careers – they were the only people he could imagine would be excited about the prospect of fighting in the Arena.

           “There are four compulsory exercises; the rest will be individual training.

           “My advice is don’t ignore the survival skills. Everybody wants to grab a sword but most of you will die from natural causes – ten percent from infection, twenty percent from dehydration.

           “Exposure can kill as easily as a knife.”

           Once the head trainer had finished giving her “welcome speech” the Tributes were instructed to split up and to begin with their individual training.

           Standing perfectly still Adya listened as the other Tributes moved away from him, heading towards the different stations that were obviously spread out around the large room, their footsteps once again echoing loudly in his ears.

           What was it with these people and ridiculously large rooms?

           CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

           Adya flinched as the sounds of metal meeting metal rang out loudly, his head automatically jerking towards the source of the sound.

           Someone laughed loudly, a laugh filled with cockiness and confidence.

           “Is that the best you’ve got?” the voice demanded haughtily.

           Ah.

           Obviously that voice belonged to one of the Career Tributes.

           He sounded…horrible.

           “So…what do you fancy learning about first?” Una asked from beside him.

           “Una, darling, the choice is entirely yours,” he answered her as brightly as possible, turning away from the sounds of fighting so that he was facing her. “After all, of the two of us you’re the one more likely to need this sort of knowledge.”

           “Right…” Una sighed softly. “Um…well…how do you fancy learning about edible plants and berries? No ones gone to that station yet…”

           “Oh, it sounds absolutely thrilling!”

           His poor imitation of the posh Capitol accent had Una laughing brightly as she slipped her arm through his and lead the way over to the station, quietly naming each of the obstacles as she led him around them.

           They weren’t laughing for long.

           Unfortunately for the two of them the trainer manning the edible plants and berries station had the most monotonous voice either of them had ever heard, making it extremely difficult for them to pay attention to what he was saying.

           Adya yawned, his jaw clicking loudly as he covered his mouth with his fist.

           “Is something boring you, boy?”

           Despite his apparent annoyance the trainer’s voice still managed to remain completely and utterly even.

           “No…” Adya mumbled, trying not to laugh. “Sorry…”

           They visited a station about healing minor wounds next but unfortunately for Adya this station was intended to be much more “hands on” than he could handle.

           “Um…I’d just to watch, if that’s alright…” he claimed softly, biting his lip as he silently willed the trainer to accept his request and not force him to participate.

           “Fine.”

           This trainers voice was gruff, his words clipped and tight.

           “Doesn’t matter to me, it’s your life you could be learning to save. Not mine.”

           What followed was a very in-depth session about treating the various wounds they could and probably would receive whilst in the Arena;

           Broken bones…shallow cuts…deep cuts…loss of limbs…burns…animal bites…

           Using Adya as her “willing” test dummy Una was able to try her hand at washing and bandaging his imaginary wounds, not to mention creating splints out of nothing more than a ripped up t-shirt and some tree branches.

           “Not bad, girl,” the gruff trainer murmured as he pulled at the bandages covering most of Adya’s body, obviously inspecting them and checking them against the examples he’d shown her. “Not that it matter much. Everything you’ve just learned will only help you so much once you’re inside the Arena. The best chance you have for survival is to get of sponsors on your side.”

           “I’ll…I’ll keep that in mind…”

           Unfortunately lunch turned out to be a completely tasteless affair thanks to the limitless array of “health food” and “energy drinks” designed by the Capitol to keep the Tributes going through their long hours of training.

           “This stuff is…it’s…ugh…” her heard one of the other Tributes mutter under their breath, obviously more than a little disappointed with food they had been given. “High energy, low taste…”

           Adya ate his own meal with little complaint.

           He’d eaten worse.

           “Tributes! Gather round!”

           Adya sighed deeply.

           He’d been hoping for a bit more of a break…

           Una’s gentle hands encouraged him to get up from his reasonably comfortable spot on the floor and together they moved across the large room until they could join the crowd of Tributes that had gathered around the Head Trainer.

           Adya got the feeling that they were the last to arrive.

           “Now that you’ve all eaten and had a suitable break from your training it is time for your first compulsory group session.”

           “Joy…”

           Una, quite wisely, waited until the rest of the group had already set off for whatever this compulsory group session was before stepping off herself, therefore ensuring that Adya didn’t have people jostling him as he walked.

           Adya was impressed.

           Not many people would have adjusted to caring for a cripple so well.

           “Uh oh…”

           “Uh oh?” Adya asked worriedly. “Una? What do you mean, uh oh?”

           “It’s the–”

           “Each of you will be expected to make it across the hanging bars smoothly and securely. You will be scored on your performance and the time it takes you.”

           “…hanging bars?” Adya asked softly.

           “Yeah…hanging bars…”

           “Well…might as well give up now…”

           As the first of the Tributes stepped up to complete the task the others were ushered to form a long line, Una and Adya somehow ending up right in the middle.

           “So…hanging bars…help?”

           Una chuckled softly from her place behind him.

           Her hands moved to rest lightly on his hips as she leant out of the line to observe the Tribute currently swinging their way across the course, grunting with loudly from the exertion.

           “Um…well, you have climb up a ladder to get to the hanging bars,” Una explained, her voice as soft as possible so as not to draw attention to their unusual conversation. “There are…um…one, two, three, four, five, six rungs in the ladder.”

           “Is the sixth the top one?” Adya asked, trying desperately to picture it in his mind, drawing on the old climbing frame he’d played on as a child before loosing his sight. “Or is there six and then the one you sand on?”

           “No, the sixth is the last one,” Una answered.

           “What about the actual bars?”

           “Come on, Cato!” an unfamiliar Tribute suddenly shouted from in front of him, cheering on the Tribute that was currently completing the obstacle. “Yes!”

           “That was quick…” Una whimpered softly. “Really quick…”

           “…good for him,” Adya muttered. “So, the hanging bars?”

           “Um…they’re…well, you should be able to find the first one if you move your hands up the poles of the ladders. Then after that there are…um…one, two, three…six, seven, eight…thirteen, fourteen…nineteen, twenty bars.”

           “I’ll be lucky if I make it three.”

           Listening to the other Tributes completing the obstacle was all but torture.

           They made it sound so easy!

           No one had had any real trouble as of yet and only a couple of them had been penalised for being too slow…but then it was his turn.

           “Right…here goes nothing…” he muttered.

           “Five paces, straight ahead,” Una whispered quickly in his ear.

           “Thanks.”

           Letting out a deep breath he forced himself to act calmer than he felt as he slowly took five steps forwards before reaching out with his hands.

           “Oh!”

           He yelped in surprise as his hands actually came into contact with the poles of the ladders…he’d been so sure that he was going to make a fool of himself by missing the climbing frame entirely.

           “Come on, boy, we haven’t got all day!”

           The sharp voice spurred him into action, his hands tightening around the poles as he slowly lifted his booted foot up, biting his lip as it seemed to take an age before the top of his foot found the first rung.

           Ok…

           Come on, Adya, you can do this…

           Moving his foot out and over the rung he pulled himself up and put his weight on it before he could chicken out entirely.

           He had to at least **try** to do this!

           “One…two…three…four…five…six…” he breath softly to himself as he slowly climbed the ladder, his hands shaking as if her were freezing to death.

           “Could he move any slower?” he heard someone snort.

           “Looks like he’s afraid of heights!” a girl giggled harshly.

           “What a wimp!”

           The iron taste of blood filled his mouth as he bit his lip, trying to ignore the hurtful comments as he moved his hands up the poles until he found the first bar.

           Letting go with one hand was far more terrifying than it should have been considering that he was just standing on a climbing frame. It wasn’t even that high, he knew that for a fact because he’d just climbed the ladder and yet it was truly and utterly terrifying for him to reach out in search of the second bar.

           “You know, you might move faster if you actually looked at the bars.”

           “I ca–”

           Adya cut himself off, clenching his jaw shut to control his temper which was flaring up and would have caused him to reveal his secret too early.

           He felt his face heating up as he heard numerous voices, most likely the Career Tributes, raised in cruel laughter at his expense.

           Tilting his head up so as to give the appearance of looking at the bars he tightened his grip on the first bar and reached out for the second one once more, sighing with relief as his hand finally made contact.

           Now cam the difficult bit…

           Holding on tight to both bars he pulled his feet up and off of the ladder…

           That felt…not good…

           His palms were getting sweaty and he’d only just started.

           Seriously not good…

           Letting go of the first bar and swinging his arm into the empty air felt even worse, especially when it took a good few tries before his hand finally landed on the third bar and he was able to grab hold of it.

           He was panting shakily as he reached out for the fourth bar…

           His arms were trembling when he reached out for the fifth…

           And then he couldn’t find the sixth bar.

           “What a looser…”

           Adya bit his lip even harder, ashamed to feel tears building up in his eyes.

           Where the hell was the sixth bar?

           His left hand was getting sweatier and sweatier as it continued to hold his full weight while his right hand searched desperately for the next bar, his grip getting looser and looser until it was only his fingertips holding on…

           Oh no…

           This was gonna hurt…

           He lost his grip.

           It felt like he was falling for eternity until his body crashed into the less than soft ground beneath the climbing frame, his shoulder taking the brunt of the impact with a rather loud crack.

           “Ugh!”

           “Adya!”

           Una’s soft hands were suddenly there, smoothing his sweaty hair back from his forehead and touching his injured shoulder gently.

           “Ow…” he moaned, tasting blood in his mouth once more.

           Pain lanced sharply from his bottom lip when he pressed his tongue against it, finding a set of deep indentations caused by his teeth.

           He’d nearly bitten through it entirely.

           “That wouldn’t have been good…” he muttered to himself.

           “Hurry up and get him out of the way, girl!”

           The sharp voice could only have come from one of the trainers and his order only made the other Tributes laugh harder, now at both of their expense.

           Adya pushed himself up with his good arm and leaned heavily on Una for support as she led him out of the way, guiding him over to a seat of some kind despite the fact that he must have been far too heavy for her.

           She was tougher than she looked…well, felt…

           “I have to go and do the course. Will you be all right?”

           Adya nodded.

           Reaching up he gingerly placed his hand on his shoulder, choking back a whimper of pain as the joint flared up almost violently.

           Oh…that didn’t feel good…

           He was working up the courage to attempt moving his shoulder when the conversations of the other Tributes reached his sensitive ears.

           “…what an idiot…”

           “…he’s worse than I am…”

           “…couldn’t even complete a set of hanging bars…”

           “…what a wimp…”

           Adya flinched, his eyes beginning to sting sharply once more.

           No.

           He wasn’t going to cry.

           That would just make things worse.

           He wasn’t going to cry…

           “…pathetic…”

 

A/N Oh, I’m so mean to poor Adya! I hate being so mean to him! Glad everyone seems to be enjoying the story so far. I’m hoping to get the DVD for my birthday (or rather get it with some birthday money as it comes out a couple of weeks later…so annoying…) which will hopefully help speed up my writing by giving me a huge injection of inspiration. LOL! Reviews are most definitely welcome!


	7. The Capitol, Day Three

** The Capitol, Day Three **

****

           Taking a deep breath he drew back the impossibly tight string of the bow, his hands shaking from the effort and aimed…well…he couldn’t really aim anywhere other than forwards and hope for the best.

           This was so not a good idea…

           He and Una had arrived together for their second day of training and had immediately been told to split up by one of the trainers, a young woman whose voice was so sharp that it had actually made his ears hurt.

           “You don’t want to be co-dependant in the Arena.”

           Una had apologised softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before disappearing into the general noise of the Training Room.

           Soon after that one of the more “helpful” trainers had taken pity on the young Tribute standing alone in the middle of the room and had all but dragged him over to have a go at archery.     

           “You know, you won’t have this long to aim at your target in the Arena,” the trainer pointed out from his left. “It would leave you far too exposed.”

           Aim?

           Who said anything about aiming?

           Biting his lip so hard he actually tasted blood he drew the bow string back until the knuckles of his hand brushed against the skin of his cheek, paused for a second like he had been instructed to and then let it go.

           He was surprised when, after the tell-tale whooshing sound of a moving arrow there was a thud as it struck…well…something.

           “Hey! Aim at your own target!”

           The sharp voice of one of the female Careers came from the same direction as the trainers had so Adya could only assume that she too was being instructed on how to use a bow and arrow properly.

           “Sorry…I thought I was…”

           Five complete misses later and Adya politely asked to be excused.

           Unfortunately for him as he was leaving the archery station he literally bumped into one of the trainers from the armed combat station.

           “Have you ever used a sword before, boy?”

           “Um…no…”

           “Have you ever used a knife before?”

           “Um…as a weapon?”

           “Well…yes, of course as a weapon.”

           “Ah…then no.”

           “Then you’ve got a lot to learn.”

           The hilt of a sword was pressed into his hand, the force of the movement causing his hand to automatically tighten around the unfamiliar object before dropping down to his side.

           Wow.

           That was a lot heavier than he had expected it to be.

           “Now if I were to come at you like this how would you defend yourself?”

           Oh…

           Not good…

           “Don’t jut stand there like a gibbering idiot!”

           His body moved automatically, bringing the sword up so that he held it directly in front of his chest with the sharp point aimed at the sky.

           A shocked cry leapt from his throat as his sword was knocked out of his hand by a powerful blow, the clash of the two pieces of metal singing loudly in his ears.

           Ow…

           “Pick it up.”

           The trainer’s voice was calm, obviously used to dealing with untrained idiots.

           All of a sudden Adya found himself doubting his ability to hide his lack of sight until the “opportune moment”…

           “I said pick it up!”

           “I…”

           Desperately he tried to think of an excuse that would save his secret whilst also excusing him from this particular training session.

           Wait…

           “I can’t.”

           “What did you say?”

           “I said I can’t!”

           Now either he was a much better actor than he thought or, as was more likely to be the case, the pain that he was trying to display was in fact real.

           “It feels like…like…I think my wrist is broken…”

           Adya heard the trainer sigh angrily; calling out for an Avox to take him to the medics to get his wrist looked at, muttering under his breath about how sick he was of melodramatic teenagers.

           By some stroke of luck he was with the medic until lunch was announced (“There’s nothing wrong with your wrist.” “But it hurts…” “It’ll hurt worse in the Arena.”) and so was spared from further humiliation for a little while longer.

           “Hey,” Una mumbled softly as she arrived at his side. “You ok?”

           “I’ll live…for now anyway…”

           They ate their lunch in silence, sitting so close together that their thighs were pressed together. Adya found the simple touch to be oddly comforting and was reluctant to move away even when they were ordered to gather around for the next compulsory training session.

           “So…what particular torture device do I get to fall off of today?”

           Una chuckled softly, sounding as though she hadn’t meant to just as the first Tribute in the long line began stepped up to…

           “It looks like it’s an obstacle course made of…ropes…”

           “Ropes?” Adya repeated softly.

           “Yeah…the first bit of the course is a rope ladder that…whoa…apparently isn’t connected as securely as I thought…”

           “Great…” Adya muttered sarcastically. “So I’ve got two options today – break my neck falling off or hang myself. Oh, the agony of choice…”

           This time it was Una that was to tackle the obstacle, Adya standing close behind her in the long line with his hand resting on her shoulder so that he could follow her as the line moved forwards.

           “There’s a rope ladder no more than five steps from the front of the line,” she told him suddenly, reaching up to squeeze his hand gently. “Um…it’s wider at the bottom of the ladder than it is at the top…”

           “I wouldn’t bother describing the rest of the course, Una…” Adya stopped her before she could continue. “I very much doubt that I’ll get any further than the ladder…actually thinking about it I might not even make it onto the ladder…”

           Unfortunately it turned out that he was right.

           After listening to many of his fellow Tributes struggle with the course, most of them falling onto the tough mats covering the floor it was suddenly Una’s turn.

           Una took her time to complete the course, ignoring the cruel jibes that sounded out whenever she paused to think when others had rushed ahead.

           Perhaps this was why her feet came gently to rest on the floor when so many of the others had fallen with a startled cry and loud crash.

           Just like Adya predicted he would.

           Quickly.

           “All right, boy, up you go.”

           “…any chance I could just give this course a miss?” Adya asked hopefully.

           Skipping the course would undoubtedly drop him down even further in everyone’s opinion but it might just save his neck.

           “No.”

           “But…”

           “Does compulsory mean something different in District 8?”

           “No…I just…”

           “Get on the rope ladder – now.”

           The sniggering that followed the terse order was starting to sound somewhat familiar, to the point where Adya could now pick out each individual voice.

           There was the girl with the harsh voice whose laughter was sharp and fast.

           Then there was the deep male who chuckled low and dangerously.

           The other male voice in the group was slightly higher and his laugh only ever lasted a couple of seconds, as if even laughing at something was a waste of his time.

           And the last voice was the other girl who forced her voice to be soft and light, causing her laughter to sound completely fake.

           Sighing deeply he stepped forwards slowly…waiting…waiting…waiting…

           …for that to happen!

           Another burst of cruel laughter filled the air as his foot got caught on the bottom rung of the rope ladder and sent his body tumbling forwards uncontrollably.

           Clinging to the coarse ropes tightly he waited for the ladder now supporting his entire body weight to stop swinging from side to side.

           “How pathetic…”

           Huh, he thought softly, that definitely hadn’t been one of the careers…

           Pausing for a moment to calm his mind and focus his other senses he carefully placed one foot on the next rung on the ladder…

           “Whoa…”

           Una hadn’t been kidding, he realised, when the whole thing moved beneath him as he redistributed his weight on the flimsy feeling ropes. There was no way this ladder was properly secured…

           A harsh laugh came from somewhere behind him.

           “He’s got his eyes closed!”

           Huh?

           Oh…yeah…he realised in surprise…in spite of the fact that he couldn’t actually see anything at all he had automatically clenched his eyes tightly shut as soon as the ladder had moved beneath him.

           “You’re not afraid of heights are you?”

           Ignoring the even louder burst of cruel laughter that came from the Career Tributes (and some of the trainers if the deeper voices were anything to go by) he carefully began to ascend the constantly moving ladder.

           “Not good…not good…not good…not good…”

           Every tiny movement that he made during his slow ascent caused the ropes to move beneath his hands and feet…bending…stretching…swinging…

           “Come on! Even my grandmother could climb faster than you!”

           Somehow…he genuinely didn’t know how…it wasn’t until he’d managed to climb a further six rungs on the ladder that disaster finally struck…

           He had just lifted his foot to tackle another rung of the rope ladder when the whole thing swung suddenly to one side, flipping itself over unpredictably, causing him to cry out loudly as he clung on for all he was worth.

           How high up was he?

           How much was it going to hurt when he…?

           “Ah!”

           …fell.

           It was even worth than falling off of the climbing frame yesterday, the feeling of falling through the black nothingness with the knowledge that pretty soon he was going to come into contact with the hard floor…

           “Ugh…!”

           Unlike his last fall where he’d landed on his feet, jarring both his ankles and knees, this time he landed on his hip with a loud thud…and that **really** hurt!

           “Ow…ugh…ow…”

           Rough hands grabbed him under his arms and hauled him up to his feet, causing him to cry out once more as he was shoved forwards against his will.

           He stumbled a few paces forwards, hurriedly bringing up his hands because he knew…he didn’t know how he knew but he just knew that the trainer would have used the opportunity to push towards something rather than away…

           Clang!

           Clang!

           Clang!

           Clang!

           Apparently the stand that he’d just accidentally stumbled into had been holding a variety of weapons…weapons which were now coving the floor…

           Someone sniggered loudly as he pulled himself upright in an attempt to stop his bodies momentum so that he wouldn’t crash into anything else before he could get his bearings once more.

           “What an idiot…”

           “I swear he must be the clumsiest person I’ve ever seen…”

           “He’ll probably end up accidentally killing himself…”

           Once again the hurried footsteps warned him of his friend’s arrival, allowing him to turn on the spot to greet her as she all but threw herself into his arms.

           “Adya!” she cried out softly, holding him tight. “Are you ok?”

           He chuckled softly, one hand rubbing at his rather painful hip while the other pressed against her back keeping her close to him for a little while longer.

           “…define ok?”

           Once again he was forced to rely upon Una’s strength to move him away from the ropes course/torture device, holding onto her tightly as she led him over to one of the benches and eased him gently down onto it.

           “Better?”

           He nodded, his hand rubbing at his now aching hip.

           Well…at least the pain was lessening…

           That was a good sign…right?

           “So…how badly did I do compared to everyone else?” he asked lightly.

           “Actually…you kinda did better than some of the others…”

           “You’re kidding, right?”

           “No,” Una replied quickly, laughing softly. “A couple of the others barely made it off the ground before they lost their balance. You actually made it almost to top of the ladder…”

           “Really?” he asked in surprise. “Huh…I guess miracles do happen…”

           “However in terms of falls…”

           “Right, here we go…” he muttered with a grin. “How bad was it?”

           Una paused for a moment before answering with a giggle,

           “Yours was by far the most spectacular fall of the day.”

           He chuckled deeply, turning his head to smile broadly at her as he asked,

           “…do you think I’ll get points for that?”

 

A/N Wow! Took me forever to get this chapter finished but finally managed it on a day off from work when I should have been learning my lines for a play I’m in tonight but instead decided to watch Hunger Games and write fanfiction. LOL! Therefore if I forget my lyrics in my solo it’s all your fault! LOL! Comments/Suggestions always welcome! X


	8. The Capitol, Day Four

** The Capitol, Day Four **

 

            It was the slight change in the air pressure that warned him to dodge sharply to the left, his body automatically responding to that horrible feeling of ‘there’s something about to touch my face and I won’t like it!’

            “Good!”

            Wait…had he just received praise?

            From one of the trainers?

            Huh…looked like miracles did happen after all…

            He heard the trainer settle back into his “fighting stance”, his breathing calming down almost immediately…but Adya could still hear it…

            He could hear everything…

            A slight grunt…

            A rustle of fabric…

            Once again his body reacted automatically to remove him from the path of the trainers powerful kick…which caused him to stumble uncontrollably when no contact was made, cursing loudly.

            “So the not so useless after all…”

            Adya frowned.

            It sounded like the new voice had come from quite some distance away…

            “Well you can certainly dodge quick enough but how about this time you try to fight back?” the trainer suggested as he took his position once more.

            Ok, Adya thought to himself, challenge accepted.

            Blocking out all the other sounds from the room he focused his remaining senses on the trainer moving in front of him…

            Once again he dodged the fist aiming for his face only this time he brought his own clenched fist up and struck out at what he thought was the trainers chest…

            “Ugh!”

            “…ow…” Adya whimpered in surprise, clutching his hand to his chest as it throbbed painfully in time with his heartbeat.

            Apparently punching someone with a closed fist hurt.

            Go figure.

            “Ha! He got you good!”

            “Shut up!”

            Wow…the trainer sounded like he was actually in pain…

            “Good choice, going for the heart,” the other voice murmured. “It’ll wind your opponents good and proper as long as you put enough force behind it. You’re obviously stronger than you look, boy.”

            “Er…thanks?”

            The trainer he was fighting moved suddenly, his feet squeaking against the mat as he literally launched himself towards Adya…

            …who stepped to the side just as he felt the mans fingertips graze his arm.

            “Fuck!”

            The trainer struck the mat with a loud thus and for the first time since training began the laughter that followed wasn’t aimed at Adya.

            That was…different…

            “Shut up! All of you!”

            Uh-oh.

            Apparently the trainer didn’t like being laughed at…

            This time he only just heard the movement in time to dodge the punch this time around, stumbling back unsteadily as the trainer struck out again and again.

            Not good…

            He gasped loudly as his feet got tangled together, sending him tumbling down onto the mat with a painful crash.

            Ow!

            And still the heavy footsteps advanced towards him…

            Great…

            Holding himself perfectly still until the trainer was almost on top of him he lashed out with his feet, aiming for the spot where the last footsteps had landed…

            CRACK!!!

            “Ah! Fuck!”

            This time the trainers scream was one of genuine pain as his body fell forwards, leaving Adya with no choice but to literally roll out of the way.

            “Shit!”

            One of the other trainers hurried onto the mat, crouching down by the man currently cursing Adya to burn in hell…loudly…

            “Crixus! Hold still! You’ve got a fucking bone coming out of your shin!”

            He had?

            Oh…whoops…

            Adya was startled when suddenly, above the noise of the wounded trainer, he heard someone begin to clap slowly.

            …someone was applauding him?

            “Not bad…” the far away voice from earlier murmured. “Looks like we might get a bit of a show out of him after all…”

            “All right, boy, you can get down now,” a different trainer ordered calmly.

            Slowly Adya obeyed, rising to his feet before carefully stepping off of the mat.

            “Adya! That was amazing!” Una cried out as she flung herself into his arms, discretely leading him away from the group.

            “Thanks…”

            “You broke his leg!” she giggled softly, pushing him down onto one of the benches gently before dropping down beside him. “How did you do that? I mean…”

            “Just because I can’t see doesn’t mean I can’t hear…”

            Una was called back rudely by one of the trainers to complete her turn, leaving Adya alone on the bench until the compulsory session was over and the Tributes were ordered to return to individual training until lunch.

            Joy.

            Adya’s reputation of being completely useless was fully re-instated by the time they were gathered their final compulsory session after lunch.

            “Oh no…”

            “Una? Un, what do you mean _oh no_?”

            “It’s…”

            “This particular exercise in known as _The Gauntlet_ ,” the Head Trainers voice cut across all the other voices in the room, instantly demanding silence as she continued to speak. “As you can see it is bases upon a traditional obstacle course.”

            “Ah…that’s what you meant.”

            An obstacle course…

            Yeah…he was screwed…

            “But as you can see we have made a few modifications…”

            Someone whimpered.

            “Modifications?” Adya asked softly.

            “Um…well it’s made up of platforms that I think you have to jump from one to the other but…but there are trainers spread out throughout the course,” Una explained softly so that no one else could hear her. “They’re all armed with slightly padded bars…I think…I think they’re going to try and hit us as we run the course…”

            “Oh joy…” he muttered sarcastically.

            “Oh, um…your “friend” with the broken leg is manning the first platform…”

            “Even better…”

            When the Tributes were ordered to form a line from the start line of the course Una and Adya somehow ended up right at the back…

            Great…

            Now he had the time that it would take the twenty-three other Tributes to complete the course to figure out a valid excuse to get out of having to complete it.

            If only things were that easy…

            All too soon it was Una’s turn to complete the course, leaving him alone as she tried (and failed) to complete the course without being hit…

            “All right, boy,” the Head Trainer ordered once Una had managed to make it all the way round _The Gauntlet_. “Off you go.”

            “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this…”

            Ah, there was the trainer with the broken leg…

            “Well I’m glad one of us will…” Adya muttered in response, wishing he’d managed to think something up to get him out of completing this course because this was going to be painful…painful and humiliating…

            Not to mention that the chance of his secret still being intact by the end of the course was very small indeed…

            “Well here goes nothing…”

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

            “Ow…ow…ow…”

            Feeling more than a little dazed and confused (why was he lying on the floor all of a sudden?) he tried to pull himself up into a sitting position.

            “No! Adya, don’t move – you hit your head when you were knocked off,” Una explained quickly, her gentle hands forcing him to lie back down. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly five minutes! They were just about to call in the medics!”

            Calling in the medics was something that hardly ever happened during the training period for the Games, the Capitol believing that if a Tribute was careless enough to get themselves injured before entering the Arena then they would just have to live with it…

            …or not, as the case may be.

            “Do I still have to complete the rest of the course?” he eventually asked with a wince, pressing the balls of his hands into his aching eyes…

            Ugh…his head…

            “No, Mr Kaminski, you failed this compulsory session and training is now over for the day,” the Head Trainers stern voice made him jump a mile…which of course made his head hurt even more…

            “Ow…”

            “I would advise a good night’s sleep before your individual session tomorrow,” the Head Trainer concluded before walking away from the two Tributes.

            “…you ok?”

            Una’s voice was soft and gentle which was good because his head was really… **really** starting to hurt….seriously…OW!

            “M’head hurts…”

            “It was the one from the hand-to-hand,” she told him. “He waited for you to get on the first obstacle and then aimed for your head!”

            “That explains the headache…”

            “Well…like I said you also cracked your head on the floor when you fell off…” Una explained, her voice shaking terribly. “I thought…I thought you were…”

            “I’ll be fine…”

            Until the Games at least…

            Once the Games began and they were in the Arena…

            Well…none of them would be “fine” then…

            Would they?

 

A/N I tried not to write this chapter…really I did! I’ve been desperately trying to finish my next chapter of OLAL4…but this wouldn’t leave me alone! Again! Well, hopefully now that it’s out of my system I can get back to my plan and not get lynched for my lack of updates. LOL! Comments and suggestions welcome.


	9. The Capitol, Day Five

** The Capitol, Day Five  **

        Stepping into the training room Adya moved slowly and carefully towards the raised voices of the Gamemakers. His heart was pounding against his ribs when he finally came to a halt, deciding that he was close enough.

            “Um…” his voice caught in his throat.

            Could he really do this?

            They’d discussed his “options” over breakfast and he’d pretended to listen to their advice whilst all the while planning the unpredictable move he was about to do.

            “So…you’ve probably noticed that I’m not exactly what you’d call an ideal Tribute…” he began softly, listening as some of their conversations slowed. “I’m kind of clumsy and…well…not very good and somehow I don’t think anything that I can show you today will change that…”

            One of them hummed in agreement.

            “So instead I thought I would show you the one thing that I am good at…”

            Pausing to take a deep breath, relaxing his body he allowed himself to “slip into character” as he began to sing softly,

_“I only want to say…_

__I_ _ __f there is a way…_ _

__Take this cup away from me…_ _

__For I don't want to taste its poison…_ _

__Feel it burn me…”_ _

            Tilting his head up he pressed a hand against his aching heart, barely noticing the heavy silence that had descended around him.

_“I have changed I'm not as sure…_

__As when we started…”_ _

            Closing his eyes he lost himself in the words of the song, blocking out everything but the way the words of the song he had chosen made him feel.

_“Then I was inspired…_

__Now I'm sad and tired…_ _

__Listen surely I've exceeded expectations…_ _

__Tried for three years…_ _

__S_ _ __eems like thirty…_ _

__Could you ask as much,_ _

__From any other man?”_ _

            Tilting his head up he focused his unseeing eyes in the direction of the deep breathing he could hear, hoping that his senses weren’t playing tricks on him and that he was now staring directly at the group of Gamemakers.

_“But if I die…_

__See the saga through…_ _

__And do the things you ask of me…_ _

__Let them hate me, hit me, hurt me,_ _

__Nail me to their tree…”_ _

            Throwing his arms wide he began to pace back and forth when the song began to speed up, being careful not to go too far so he wouldn’t get disorientated.

_“I'd want to know,_

__I'd want to know my God…_ _

__I'd want to know,_ _

__I'd want to know my God…_ _

__I'd want to see,_ _

__I'd want to see my God…_ _

__I_ _ __'d want to see,_ _

__I'd want to see my God…”_ _

            Stopping abruptly he turned to face the Gamemakers once more, clenching his fists at his sides as he demanded through song,

_“Why I should die…_

__Would I be more noticed,_ _

__Than I ever was before?_ _

__Would the things I've said and done,_ _

__Matter any more?”_ _

            This time when he began to pace back and forth his movements were more frantic, his voice beginning to sound both desperate and angry.

            Not a sound came from the Gamemakers watching his performance.

_“I'd have to know,_

__I'd have to know my Lord…_ _

__I'd have to know,_ _

__I'd have to know my Lord…_ _

__I'd have to see,_ _

__I'd have to see my Lord…_ _

__I'd have to see,_ _

__I'd have to see my Lord…_ _

__If I die what will be my reward?_ _

__If I die what will be my reward?_ _

__I'd have to know,_ _

__I'd have to know my Lord…_ _

__I'd have to know,_ _

__I'd have to know my Lord!”_ _

            Stopping suddenly he drew his body up as he launched into the first high note of the song, acting as though he were screaming it at their faces.

_“Why should I die?_

__Oh, why should I die?_ _

__Can you show me now,_ _

__That I would not be killed in vain?_ _

__Show me just a little,_ _

_Of your omnipresent brain..._

__S_ _ __how me there's a reason,_ _

__For your wanting me to die…_ _

__You're far too keen on where and how,_ _

__But not so hot on why…”_ _

            Pausing he allowed himself to catch his breath, his body trembling for a moment before he was able to continue with the song as it rose higher and higher.

_“Alright I'll die…_

__Just watch me die…_ _

__See how I die…_ _S__

__ee how I die!”_ _

            He could feel the sweat beginning to form on his brow as he struggled to hold the highest note for as long as he could, his body shaking even harder than before as he put everything he had into his performance.

            Someone gasped.

            His legs gave out on him at the same time that his voice did, sending him crashing down to his knees with a loud thud before he could continue with the rest of the song, his voice choked with genuine emotions as tears began to run freely down his cheeks as the pace of the song slowed once more.

_“Then I was inspired…_

__Now I'm sad and tired…_ _

__After all I've tried for three years…_ _

__Seems like ninety…_ _

__Why then am I scared,_ _

__To finish what I started…_ _

__What you started,_ _

__I didn't start it…”_ _

            Scrambling back to his feet he threw his words at the men watching him, all but spitting as his anger truly took hold on his emotions.

_“God thy will is hard…_

__But you hold every card…_ _

__I will drink your cup of poison…_ _

__Nail me to your cross and break me…_ _

__Bleed me, beat me, kill me!_ _

_Take me now…_

__Before I change my mind..._ _

_Now…before I change my mind!”_

            His voice echoed around the cavernous room for a moment even after he’d finished singing, giving him time to catch his breath and wipe his cheeks before focusing on the men watching him once more.

            He was startled when someone began to clap, slow and deliberately, before the familiar voice of the head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, broke through the silence that now surrounded him,

            “If that’s everything you have to show us, Mr Kaminski, you may go.”

            “Thank you.”

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

            “Una?”

            “Hmmm?”

            “What colour **is** your hair?”

            “Oh…it’s red…”

            Adya nodded, picturing the mess of curls his fingers were currently running through as the vibrant red colour he remembered seeing on some of the women in his housing block before the fire took away his sight.

            The two of them were sat together on the comfortable sofa in the main room of their suite, waiting for the broadcast that would reveal their scores…well…Adya was sat anyway…Una was curled up on her side and was using his thigh as a pillow.

            Hence the fact that his hands were currently playing with her hair.

            “Mine used to be brown…” he murmured softly, one hand moving up to push his new fringe away from his eyes.

            He still wasn’t used to it…

            “It still is…” Una sighed, sounding more than a little bit relaxed…which was more than a little bit remarkable considering the situation they were in. “Wish I had your hair…I’ve always hated mine…”

            “Your hair feels lovely…” he reassured her, stroking the long curls right the way to the very tip so that when he released the curled strands they pinged back towards her head. “Wild and uncontrolled…”

            “…Adya?”

            Una sounded hesitant all of a sudden.

            “Yeah?”

            “Would you do something for me?”

            “Um…well…I guess it depends on what it is…”

            Una sighed deeply against his leg.

            “Will you kiss me?”

            Adya froze.

            “…come again?”

            “Will you kiss me?” Una repeated her question softly, pausing for only a moment before launching into an explanation. “Only I’ve never been kissed and I don’t want to…to go into the Arena without ever having been kissed…”

            “Oh…”

            Adya had never been kissed either...

            To be honest he hadn’t really had the opportunity to find someone that he wanted to share his first kiss with whilst living on the streets…

            “I just…want to experience everything I can before…before it’s too late…”

            Adya flinched.

            _Before it’s too late…_

            If things went as he expected them to by this time tomorrow he’d be…

            “Ok…I’ll kiss you…but you’ll need to sit up otherwise I might…miss…”

             Una giggled softly before slowly rearranging herself so that she was perched on the edge of the sofa facing him, her hands coming to rest on top of his.

            “So…um…how are we going to do this?”

            Adya thought about it for a moment.

            “I think you’re going to have to lead...” he answered softly, licking his lips nervously as he briefly explained his reasoning. “Out of the two of us you have a better chance of aiming properly…”

            “Ok…well…here goes…”

            He heard her exhale loudly, probably working up the courage before she shifted in front of him, her hands tightening their hold on his just before he felt her lips press gently against his own.

            Oh…

            They were…soft…

            It felt…nice…kind of weird but…nice…

            “Huh…” Una mumbled as she leaned back after their brief kiss. “That was…”

            “…nice?” he suggested softly as she struggled to finish her line of thought.

            “Yeah, but…not quite how I imagined it to be…” she admitted softly.

            Adya nodded silently in agreement.

            “Maybe…” Adya was forced to stop and clear his throat before he could continue with his slightly hesitant suggestion. “Maybe we could give it another go?”

            Their second kiss was different…very different…

            It was much more like the kisses that he’d stared at so innocently as a young child, their lips moving together with ever increasing passion. And then he felt her soft lips part and his tongue was being sucked into her warm mouth…

            Oh…

            Wow…

            That felt…

            He was pretty sure that his brain had actually begun to explode…

            His hands had a mind all of their own as they moved to her slim hips, finding the belt looks of her trousers as he pulled her willing body flush against his own…

            She moaned loudly against his lips, her teeth nipping lightly at his bottom lip and suddenly it felt as if her hands were everywhere all at once;

            His chest…

            His arms…

            His back…

            His shoulders…

            Something was stirring deep within him, something new and unfamiliar and…

            “What do you think you are doing?!?”

            They sprang apart as if they’d been shocked, both of them panting sharply as they turned to face their angry publicist.

            “I think it’s pretty obvious what they were doing,” Woof pointed out with a deep chuckle. “You might want to grab a pillow, boy.”

            Huh?

            Why would he…?

            Oh…

            Flushing brightly with shame as he realised just how “stirred” their kiss had caused him to become Adya hurriedly did as the old man suggested, pulling one of the many pillows from behind his back and placing it in his lap.

            Beside him Una tried desperately to hide the fact that she was giggling.

            Cecelia cleared her throat before thankfully changing the subject,

            “I think the broadcast is about to begin.”

            Hixas huffed noisily but took a seat further along the sofa as the familiar theme tune began to play from the ridiculously large screen that he had been told was mounted on the wall opposite the sofa.

            “He has such a fake smile…” Una muttered uncomfortably as a deep voice calmly introduced the well known host of the Hunger Games, Caesar Flickerman. “…and his teeth are too white…”

            **“As you know the Tributes were rated on a scale of 1 to 12 after three days of careful evaluation…”** Caesar explained, his voice the most serious Adya had heard it so far. **“The Gamemakers would like to acknowledge…”**

            “If you’ve done something to jeopardise your position in the rankings…” Hixas threatened softly as the famous master of ceremonies continued to pass on the standard disclaimer given by the Gamemakers every year.

            Adya snorted loudly.

            “What? Bottom? Don’t think there’s any chance of me jeopardising that…”

            **“And now the training scores…”** Caesar Flickerman announced dramatically and Adya found himself clutching the pillow in his lap tighter than he’d ever clutched a pillow in his life. **“From District 1, Marvel, with a score of…nine.”**

            “Good score…” Woof muttered approvingly.

            Hixas scoffed loudly,

            “He’s a Career – of course he got a good score.” 

            **“From District 1, Glimmer, with a score of…nine.”**

            **“From District 2, Cato, with a score of…ten.”**

            “Unsurprising…”

            Una shuddered, cuddling up to his side until he relented and moved his arm so that it was draped around her trembling shoulders in a loose hug.

            Thankfully his unwanted arousal was fading rapidly…

            **“From District 2, Clove, with a score of…ten.”**

            “Great…she’s as deadly as she looks…” Una muttered worriedly.

            **“From District 3, Samuel, with a score of…nine.”**

            “Now that’s surprising…” Cecelia murmured. “He must’ve done something to impress them during his training sessions…”

            **“From District 3, Terra, with a score of…four.”**

**“From District 4, Rhys, with a score of…eight.”**

            “Another surprising score…” Woof muttered with a deep chuckle. “Maybe our boy will surprise us after all…”

            “I sincerely doubt it…”

            Adya was predicting to get a big fat zero when his name was called.

            **“From District 4, Lillibet, with a score of…six.”**

**“From District 5, Eddard, with a score of…four.”**

            It quickly became apparent to Adya that Caesar had a very specific way of announcing each and every tribute score;

            Announce the District Number and Tributes Name…

            Throw in a pause for dramatic effect…

            And then announce the Training Score…

            **“From District 5, Finch, with a score of…five.”**

**“From District 6, Asa, with a score of…five.”**

**“From District 6, Melinda, with a score of…eight.”**

            In fact the only thing that seemed to vary from score to score was the tone of voice he used when announcing the all important number, ranging from unaffected (if the number was low) to impressed (if the number was high.)

            **“From District 7, Beau, with a score of…eight.”**

**“From District 7, Anika, with a score of…nine.”**

            Of course it had to be Adya who broke the comfortable routine…

            **“From District 8, Adya, with a score of…”**

            Adya could tell at once that the pause was different.

            **“…are we sure this is right?”**

            “What did you do?” Hixas demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

            “Um…”

            **“Apologies, ladies and gentlemen…”** Caesar murmured quickly, saving him from explaining right at that moment. **“From District 8, Adya, with a score of…one.”**

            Una gasped.

            “Huh…” Adya laughed softly. “That’s actually better than I was expecting…”

            “…one?!?” Hixas all but screamed. “How could you–”

            “Hixas! Shut up!” Woof ordered sharply, interrupting what was bound to be a long and loud tirade from their publicist. “Interrogate the boy later – right now we need to hear the girls score.”

            **“…strict 8, Una, with a score of…seven.”**

            Una let out a sigh of relief.

            “Congratulations.”

            “Thanks…”

            “What the hell did you do to get a score of one?!?” Hixas demanded sharply, jumping up from his seat so that he could tower threateningly over the teenage boy sat on the sofa. “How is that even possible?!?”

            Adya shrugged.

            “I just did what you told me to do – I showed them what I’m good at.”

            **“From District 9, Viggo, with a score of…8.”**

**“From District 9, Persephone, with a score of…3.”**

            “What do you mean, you showed them what you’re good at?!”

            “I think that should be obvious, even to you…” Woof muttered derisively.

            **“From District 10, Bruno, with a score of…nine.”**

            “What…did…you…do?”

            Adya smirked up at his angry publicist, relaxing back against the pillows.

            “I sang them a song.”

            **“From District 10, Carrie, with a score of…six.”**

**“From District 11, Thresh, with a score of…ten.”**

**“From District 11, Rue, with a score of…seven.”**

            “…I don’t believe this…” Hixas hissed, beginning to pace in front of the sofa. “You **sang** them a song? **A song?!?** I mean…what did I do to deserve this…why did I have to get stuck with the impossible Tribute…”

            Adya rolled his sightless eyes.

            He was getting used to the way his publicist was more worried about himself than the Tributes he was supposed to be promoting.

            **“From District 12, Peeta, with a score of…eight.”**

            “Hush! I want to hear what score that girl on fire gets…” Willow shushed them all from somewhere behind the sofa. “What do you think, high or low?”

            “Low…” Oscar snorted. “No matter what they manage to make her look like she’s still from District 12 and they haven’t had a decent Tribute in years.”

            Adya hadn’t even realised the stylists were there.

            **“And finally…from District 12, Katniss Everdeen, with a score of…eleven.”**

            “...eleven?” Cecelia murmured in disbelief. “I can’t remember the last time…”

            Una’s head dropped down onto his shoulder.

            “You ok?”

            She sighed deeply, pressing her face against his neck as she answered softly,

            “…not really…”

            “…yeah, me neither…”

 

A/N Yeah…the scene with the kissing…no idea where that came from…it just appeared out of no where…anyway more will be on the way soon. Let me know what you think and, of course, suggestions are always welcome.

A/N 2 The song was _Gethsemane_ from _Jesus Christ Superstar_ by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Time Rice.


	10. The Capitol, Day Six

**The Capitol, Day Six**

 

            “So, Adya…tell me…how did a Tribute who only achieved a training score of 1, the lowest score in the history of the games, manage to make his way to the top of the leader board with odds of 3-1 to win?”

            “…what?”

            “Did you not realise that you’re tied for first place on the leader board with Cato of District 2?”

            “…er…no…no, I didn’t know…”

            “Makes me think you’ve got something hidden up your sleeve…”

            Adya chuckled darkly, his fingers coming up to touch the dark glasses that his stylist had added to his interview outfit so as to give the “big reveal” a bit more flare.

            Getting onto the stage had been an interesting experience, what with Una having to whisper him hurried directions about the layout of the stage before she herself had to appear for her interview with Caesar Flickerman.

            He’d stubbed his toes on the step but thankfully he hadn’t fallen over.

            “…um…”

            Caesar laughed triumphantly.

            “So there is something! Is it a secret or can you share it with us tonight?”

            “…um…it’s not really a secret…I’ve only kept quiet about it till now because...well…you don’t really need to know why but…”

            His hands were shaking as he reached up an slowly removed the dark glasses, turning his sightless eyes towards the host of the games.

            “I’m blind.”

            Complete and utter silence.

            For a moment it was as if no one in the audience even dared to breath as they stared at him.

            “…come again?” Caesar finally asked, his voice filled with barely hidden confusion. “I could have sworn you just said–”

            Adya nodded sharply as he interrupted the startled host;

            “That I’m blind. I am. I cannot see a thing. I’ve only got a vague idea where you are because of what I can hear – your voice, your breathing…”

            He heard the host of the Hunger Games shift in his chair moments before he felt something moving close to his face.

            A hand, he would guess.

            He was probably checking to see how much his eyes reacted to the movement…and judging by the slight hitch in the other mans breath he would guess that, funnily enough, they didn’t.

            “…I don’t…” Caesar cleared his throat loudly. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a blind Tribute compete in the Games before…”

            “You know you have a very liberal use of the word _compete_ …”

            Someone chuckled in the audience.

            Caesar huffed softly, obviously trying to conceal his annoyance at having his control of the interview tested by a Tribute like him.

            “But surely someone from your District could have volunteered to enter the games in your place?”

            “Er…yeah…my friend wanted to but I wouldn’t let him…”

            “Why not? I would have thought you’d have jumped at the chance…unless you were after the glory for yourself?”

            “No…I just didn’t see any point in…um…throwing away the life of someone who actually has a future.”

            “You didn’t have much confidence in him winning then…”

            “Against the Careers? Come on, everyone knows how this thing works. Better to sacrifice a cripple than someone who can actually be a contribution to society.”

            Caesar hummed thoughtfully.

            “Won’t your parents be disappointed in you for throwing away the chance for District 8 to have a Victor?”

            “Um…I don’t know…?”

            Annoyingly his answer came out more as a question than a statement.

            “I’d like to think they’d be a little bit proud of me…”

            “You’d like to think?”

            “They’re dead.”

            “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

            Yeah, right…and pigs might fly…

            “If you don’t mind my asking, Adya, how have you survived with no sight and no parents?”

            “I lived rough…”

            Several voices gasped loudly.

            “I’m sure some of you noticed that I wasn’t…um…the cleanest of Tributes ever to be picked during a Reaping…”

            “That’s right, you did look a little bit…”

            “Dirty. I know. So yeah…I slept rough and sang for food.”

            “What do you mean you _sang for food_?” Caesar repeated slowly.

            “Exactly that. I could hardly offer to do odd jobs in exchange for food so instead I’d usually sit in the square and sang the songs my mother taught me before she died. People were very kind…”

            A murmur of approval and interest spread through the vast audience he could now hear shifting in their seats.

            “That’s actually sort of what I did for my final training session,” he supplied without being prompted. “I couldn’t exactly demonstrate my prowess with any of the weapons or anything and…well…they’d seen me fall off pretty much every piece of equipment in there…”

            Someone chuckled.

            “So instead I sang them a song called _Gethsemane_ …um…it’s a song from the point of view of a man who knows that he is going to die…”

            “I’ve never heard of it…” Caesar muttered.

            “That’s probably because it comes from before the Dark Days like most of the songs I know are. Actually, thinking about it all bar three are from before…”

            A loud gasp of shock came from the audience this time followed by a low murmur as people discussed the new found information.

            “I’d sing it for you now but it’s a bit too long…but the basic story behind it is that the man knows that he’s going to die and, while being angry about this, he has somehow come to accept his situation…”

            Another murmur, this time a little bit louder as people discussed the “controversial” subject of the song.

            “I think the most poignant line for me is when he sings –

_God thy will is hard…_

__But you hold every card…_ _

__I will drink your cup of poison…_ _

__Nail me to your cross and break me…_ _

__Bleed me, beat me, kill me!_ _

_Take me now…_

__Before I change my mind..._ _

_Now…before I change my mind!”_

            Singing those few little lines had a strange effect on the audience - rather than go silent like they had with everything else his strong voice seemed to spur them into a frenzy of excited clapping, murmuring and even the odd cheer…

            Weird…

            “That’s quite a voice you’ve got there…”

            “Er…thanks…”

            “What do you think folks? Should we ask Adya to give us a quick performance before we draw this interview to a close?”

            The cheer he received in response was absolutely ridiculous.

            “Take it away…”

            Now what?

            What should he sing?

            Getting slowly to his feet he took his time settling into a comfortable pose facing the buzzing audience.

            And then it hit him.

“ _Look at me, and tell me who I am._

__Why I am, What I am._ _

__Call me a fool, and it’s true I am._ _

__I don’t know who I am._ _

__It’s such a shame, I’m such a sham._ _

__No one knows who I am._ _

__Am I the face of the future?_ _

__Am I the face of the past?_ _

__Am I the one who must finish last?_ _

__Look at me, And tell me who I am,_ _

__Why I am, What I am._ _

__Will I survive?_ _

_Who will give a damn,_

__If no one knows who I am?_ _

__Nobody knows…_ _

__Not even you…_ _

__No one knows who I am…”_ _

            As the final note trailed off he was met with stunned silence.

            And then, suddenly and with no warning whatsoever, the audience went completely insane – cheering, screaming, clapping, stamping their feet…

            He stumbled back a pace in genuine shock.

            That…wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting…

            Someone grabbed his hand suddenly, pulling his arm up into the air so sharply he fear that his shoulder might have been pulled out of joint.

            “Ow…”

            “Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Adya Kaminski of District 8!”

 

A/N Sorry for the delay (and for the pitiful length of the chapter). For those of you not reading my other main story (Of Lions And Lambs) I’ve been slightly distracted lately by real life as my boyfriend proposed to me on Valentine’s Day and, well I’d like to say things are only just starting to calm down but they’re really not. Work. Cadets. Theatre. Choir. Wedding. Luckily I’ve managed to find a little time to squeeze some writing in during this last week. Anyway enough rambling – hope you enjoyed the update. Please let me know what you think and suggestions are always welcome.

 

A/N2 The song (which as you might have guessed was the inspiration for this entire story when it came on my Playlist whilst I was reading the book) is ‘No One Knows Who I Am’ from the musical Jekyll & Hyde.


	11. The Capitol, Day Six

** The Capitol, Day Six **

****

            Standing pressed against the railings, his face turned into the wind that rushed all around him Adya found he could finally breathe for the first time since he’d stepped of the stage hours earlier.

            His senses were dulled.

            He couldn’t hear…

            He couldn’t smell…

            He couldn’t really feel anything…

            He just was.

            It was Una that had mentioned the little garden hidden up on the roof.

            “I heard some of the other Tributes talking about the garden today…” she’d murmured softly as everyone had been finishing off the last little bits of their evening meal. “Is it…I mean…are we allowed…?”

            “Of course you can visit the garden,” Cecelia had reassured her softly.

            “What do you think, Adya?” Una had asked. “I’ve heard the views are…”

            “What would he care about the views?” Hixas had scoffed cruelly. “He wouldn’t be able to see them anyway.”

            Adya had bristled uncomfortably.

            “I’d still like to go up, if that’s ok? Una can always describe them to me and if nothing else I can keep her company. You know, on this last night of our lives.”

            “It might not be the last night of your lives…” Cecelia had tried to sound hopeful as she spoke quickly before Hixas could say anything cruel.

            Adya had smiled sadly in her direction.

            He wasn’t living under some delusion.

            He was blind.

            His odds of winning had plummeted after his little announcement.

            Instead people were taking bets on who would be the one to kill him, or so he had heard one of the guards murmuring about.

            The guard had placed his bet on Marvel, the Career Tribute of District One.

            His friend had gone with Katniss, the Girl on Fire.

            “Una? Would you like to go up to the garden with me?” he’d asked instead of voicing his thoughts, turning to smile a little more kindly at the girl sat beside him.

            “I’d love to.”

            And so here they were.

            In a garden that smelled of the most wonderful flowers on the roof of the tall building that had been their home for the last few days, gazing out at the Capitol.

            “I wish you could see this…” Una murmured when the wind finally died down enough for him to hear her. “It’s beautiful…”

            Sadly this meant he could also hear the celebrations continuing below.

            “The garden or the view?” he asked.

            “Both.”

            “Tell me about it?”

            Una sighed, pressing herself against his side.

            “I have no idea what half of the flowers in the garden are but there are dozens and dozens of roses, all different colours…”

            “I can smell the roses…”

            “And there are some tulips and lilies and daisies and things that shouldn’t even be able to grow in the same sort of are as each other…”

            “Only the best for the Capitol.”

            “Quite…”

            She left his side briefly and he heard her pluck one of the flowers a little way away from him before returning, pressing the soft flower into his hand.

            “It’s a rose,” she explained. “But it’s purple.”

            “Huh…”

            Lifting the flower up to his nose he took his time to enjoy the scent before tucking the flower behind his ear, making Una giggled softly behind him.

            “Very manly…” she murmured.

            “Shut up…”

            Still giggling she turned her attention to the view around them.

            “We’re on one of the highest buildings around…” she explained softly. “Everywhere lit up in blues and reds and greens…there’s banners with all our faces on…although most of them are of that District 12 girls…”

            “Are the stars out?” he asked softly, tilting his head up and picturing the stars as he remembered them from his years before the fire.

            “Yes, but they’re not as bright as they are at home…”

            “Probably because of all the lights on the ground…”

            A firework exploding made him jump.

            “How can they celebrate what is essentially the murder of eleven children?” he found himself asking before he could stop himself.

            Una tensed beside him before sighing.

            “It’s the Capitol.”

            After that they stood in silence, leaning against each other for support.

            “I don’t want to die…” Una finally murmured, her voice thick with tears.

            “I know…”

            Putting his arms around her held her close, pressing a kiss to her hair as she began to sob quietly into his shoulder.

            It wasn’t fair…

            Eventually she cried herself out and pulled away from him, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she did so.

            “I’m going to go and try and get some sleep,” she announced softly.

            “I might stay up here for a little while longer…”

            “Do you want me to send someone up to help you back down?” she asked, her worry for his safety making him smile slightly as he nodded.

            “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea…”

            “I’ll see you in the morning then…”

            Once alone he finally allowed his own tears to fall.

            He cried for the injustice of it all…

            He cried for Una…

            He cried for the other Tributes that were fated to die…

            He cried for the one who would survive…

            He cried for his friends…

            He cried for his family…

            But most of all he cried for himself…

            “I don’t want to die…”

            He let out a startled cry when a hand suddenly came to rest on the back of his neck, the fingers squeezing gently in what turned out to be quite a reassuring way.

            “Who…who is that?” he asked, brushing away his tears as he tried to turn his sightless eyes on the person standing behind him. “Who’s there?”

            “It’s me.”

            He recognised the voice.

            “…Cato?”

            He felt his brow furrow with confusion.

            Cato…the Career Tribute from District Two was…comforting him?

            Yes…

            The hand on the back of his neck was still there…

            The thumb of said hand was stroking his skin softly…

            “…why...why are you…?”

            “I don’t want to die either.”

            The calm admission was met with a soft huff from the handicapped tribute.

            “You’re odds on to win. You’re the one most likely to live out of all of us.”

            “But I’m not the favourite.”

            Cato, he noticed, was very direct with his answers.

            “I don’t have the public behind me. The odds mean very little if you don’t have the crowd to back them up.”

            “…wow…you’re quite the cold hearted killer aren’t you?”

            Stepping back from the other boy to remove himself from his grip had seemed like a good idea at the time…until he realised that he was dangerously close to the steps leading down to the door…

            Before he could even curse a hand grabbed front of his shirt.

            “I’m not as cold as I seem.”

            The hand pulled him forwards, settling him in place before releasing him.

            “I’m just repeating what I’ve been taught. You need three things to be a sure fire win in the games – the odds, the public and the skill.”

            Adya supposed he could see his point…

            “I’ve been taught the skill…”

            The Training Centre had certainly proved that.

            “I’ve won the odds…”

            Yup, 3-1 just like his had been before he’d done his _big reveal_ …

            “But I don’t have the public like you do.”

            “…wait, what? Me? You think I’ve got the public?”

            “Can’t you hear them?”

            Adya frowned.

            “Listen.”

            Turning his head towards the sounds of celebrations coming from the ground Adya was surprised to hear a recording of his performance being played amidst the cheering and screaming of the crowd.

            “You have the public.”

            “Well…I guess one out of three isn’t too bad…”

            Cato chuckled.

            “They’d love to see you win,” Cato informed him seriously. “To quote my mentor _if that boy comes out of this alive he’ll be a sensation._ ”

            “Me?”

            A sensation?

            Cato chuckled once more.

            “You. You’re voice. You’re looks. The fact that they can make themselves look good by showering you with gifts to _help you_ …they’d absolutely love you.”

            Huh…

            “Shame it’s not gonna happen…”

            Silence.

            Adya began to wonder after a while if the other boy was still there or if he’d just been too distracted to notice him leaving.

            Then a hand came to rest on his shoulder, making him jump of course.

            “Sorry…” Cato apologised, something that seemed rather out of character compared with what Adya had heard from and about the other boy. “Do you need a hand getting back inside? It’s getting late…”

            “Una was meant to be sending someone…” Adya answered.

            He genuinely had no idea what was going on…

Why was Cato being so nice to him?

            It didn’t make sense.

            “I’ll take you down if you want…” Cato offered instantly. “I mean, I have to go past your floor anyway…”

            “Why are you being nice to me?”

            Wow.

            Way to go, Adya, just blurt it out why don’t you?

            That’s definitely the way to go.

            “Because I want to.”

            Oh.

            He’d actually answered.

            Albeit with the most unhelpful answer ever but he’d still answered.

            “Because I’m not the mindless killing machine everyone wants me to be.”

            Oh.

            That was a little more…helpful.

            “Ok…”

            An arm gently threaded itself around his waist, pulling him gently against a rather strong body while the Careers other hand came to rest on his other elbow.

            “The lifts are this way.”

            “Wait – there’s more than one?” Adya found himself asking with genuine surprise. “I thought…”

            “No, there are two,” Cato explained, his hand releasing Adyas arm briefly in order to reach out and press the button to request the lift. “One for the odd numbers, one for the even numbers.”

            “Oh…” Adya mumbled. “Learn something new every day…”

            Once the lift had arrived Adya found himself being led inside with what he would have described as practised ease had he not known for a fact that the other Tribute had never helped him like this before.

            A blush spread across his cheeks as he felt Cato’s body press against his own as he leaned over to press the required buttons on the wall panel.

            No.

            No, Adya, he scolded himself silently.

            You will not interpret any of this as anything other than…than…

            He is not flirting with you…

            He is just…

            Just…

            **“District Eight.”**

            Adya barely managed to hold back a sigh of relief.

            He could leave before he managed to completely humiliate himself.

            “Tha–”

            His body was jostled to the side as Cato moved to slam his hand down on the panel of buttons on the wall.

            “…um…”

            The doors weren’t opening…

            Why weren’t the doors opening?

            “Do you have a plan for when you’re in the Arena?”

            Cato’s voice was tense.

            Adya was growing more confused by the second.

            “Um…a plan?” he responded somewhat nervously. “I guess…die as quickly and painlessly as possible?”

            Adya frowned.

            Had it been Cato that had stopped the doors from opening?

            “You shouldn’t be here…”

Cato’s words were so soft Adya was convinced that he had imagined them.

            He hadn’t.

            “At least everyone else had a chance of surviving…”

            “Um…”

            Adya was so confused.

            What had happened to the brutal Career Tribute he’d been listening to for the past four days?

            It was like he was talking to a completely different person…

            “The Games are supposed to be a contest of skill,” Cato continued, his voice tense and pulsing with anger. “Not…not a slaughter of people who can’t even begin to defend themselves…”

            In a thoroughly bizarre turn of events Adya found himself reaching out to find the other boy, finding his elbow which in turn allowed him to walk his hand up to the Careers firm shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

            “Um…it’s ok…really…” Adya began softly, fixing his sightless gaze in the other boy’s direction. “I mean…it is what it is…and…and what it isn’t is your fault…that made more sense in my head…”

            Cato let out an involuntary chuckle.

            “Look my life has been pretty shit so far anyway so it’s not really all that much of a surprise that this is how it’s going to end…”

            Adya didn’t know what he’d expected the other boy’s response to but it certainly hadn’t been the soft pressure of lips pressing against his.

            Cato was kissing him.

            Oh…

            Wow…

            That was…

            “Sorry…” Cato hissed, pulling away sharply, thudding loudly as he pressed himself against the wall of the elevator. “Sorry, I…”

            “You kissed me.”

            Silence.

            Well done, Adya, state the obvious.

            “…why did you kiss me?”

            Cato sighed.

            “Because I wanted to.”

            “Oh…”

            “I…I feel something for you…” Cato admitted softly, almost hesitantly. “Something I’ve never felt for anyone before…”-

            Adya felt his cheeks flush.

            Was the deadly Career Tribute, odds on favourite to win, actually admitting to having a crush on him?

            Him?!?

            “I’m sorry, I should…”

            “No,” Adya interrupted him quickly. “Don’t apologise. It’s ok. It was just…slightly unexpected…”

            Cato let out a breath of relief.

            “You could…” Adya was forced to clear his throat before continuing. “You could do it again. If you want…”

            Silence.

            Wonderful, Adya, way to ruin the moment…

            Silence.

            It was a joke.

            It must have been a joke.

            Let’s all laugh at the gullible blind boy…

            Oh…

            A soft pair of lips were pressed against his once more, a surprisingly gentle hand cupping his jaw and tilting his head slightly to one side.

            Oh…

            That felt…so much better than when he and Una had kissed…

            The strength of the lips pressing against his…

            The confidence of the tongue chasing his own…

            Oh…

            Pulling away with a loud gasp he was embarrassed to find himself more than a little bit aroused…

            “That was…”

            “Yeah…”

            The hand remained on his cheek, its thumb caressing his smooth skin.

            “I’ve never hated the Games as much as I do right at this moment…”

            Cato’s soft admission was followed by a third, much gentler kiss.

            “I can’t promise to protect you…”

            Adya smiled.

            “I’m not asking you to.”

            The hand resting on his jaw trembled and, acting on instinct, he brought his own remarkably steady hand up to rest on top of it.

            “We must all play our part.”

           

A/N Sorry, got distracted by ‘Catching Fire’…finally managed to bring myself back into Hunger Games mode and crack on with this story…and it’s time to bring on the slash! (At last, I hear some of you say.) Let me know what you think and as always suggestions and constructive criticisms are welcome.


	12. The Capitol, Day Seven

** The Capitol, Day Seven **

****

            Adya sighed.

            It would all be over soon.

            He was stood in the tube which would take him up into the Arena, his hands hung at his sides, not clenched or fidgeting.

            Loose.

            Calm.

            He’d expected to feel terror, to feel frightened.

            Instead he felt…nothing…

            He’d said his goodbyes that morning.

            Cecelia had hugged him.

            It had taken him surprise by eventually he’d relaxed into her gentle embrace, the motherly action adding to the feeling of peace spreading throughout his body.

            He hadn’t felt anything like it in years.

            It was nice.

            Woof had shaken his hand, squeezing just a little bit too tightly.

            Una had wept softly all morning, hugging him tightly and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before they were separated, gentle hands leading him away from his friend so that they could catch their separate transports.

            “Remember what you’ve learnt,” he’d called out to her over his shoulder, hoping she could still hear him. “Stay safe.”

            He’d barely flinched when they’d injected his tracker into his arm.

            He’d been tempted to tell them they wouldn’t be needed.

            He didn’t.

            And now he was here.

            A part of him just wanted it to be over.

            A larger part of him wanted all of it to be a dream.

            He’d dressed in his simple “Arena Outfit” and had sort of listened to Willow’s detailed description about the special pockets…about the robust fabric she’d used…and the special lining she’d come up with…

            All he took away from her ramblings was that he was fated to die wearing his least favourite colour in the entire world.

            Green.

            And not just any Green.

            Olive Green.

            He hated Green.

            He always had.

            He didn’t even know why, really, just knew that he’d always hated it.

            Too late to complain now, though.

            Willow didn’t stop talking even as she helped him find the glass tube when the order came through the intercom for the Tributes to prepare to enter the Arena.

            In fact it was only the fact that the glass tube sealed behind him that cut off her continued ramblings, now focused on his shoelaces of all things, and Adya half suspected that she was still talking and it was only the glass that was saving his ears.

            Willow liked to talk.

            A lot.

            He nearly tumbled when the floor beneath him began to move with an electronic wine, so sharp that it made his sensitive ears ache, forcing him up through the long tube until eventually he felt himself emerge into the open air of the Arena.

            It was quiet.

            Almost too quiet.

            He could hear the faint rustling caused by the light breeze passing through what he assumed were trees, perhaps bushes and somewhere far away he could just make out the sound of birds calling out to each other.

            The Tribute to his left was gasping, as though they were struggling to control their breathing in order to appear as calm as possible and he clothing rustled loudly, telling him that she was moving about on top of her pedestal.

            Probably scoping out the lay of the land.

            The Tribute to his right was muttering to himself.

            “You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.”

            Adya didn’t recognise his voice.

            Somewhere ahead of him something was making a sound similar to that of a drum, a steady beat which appeared to be getting faster and faster as they waited.

            The Countdown.

            For a moment he was tempted to simply step down from his pedestal too early and allow the mines he knew to be buried around its base to do their job.

            He even lifted his foot, preparing to step forwards…

            No.

            He refused to be remembered as the Tribute who got himself blown up.

            Finally the sound of the drum stopped.

            For a moment there was nothing but silence…

            …and then all hell broke loose.

            Tributes were screaming, some out of fear, some out of pain and some simply because they could, like they had their own personal battle cries.

            He could hear the sound of running feet.

            Of people fighting.

            Of people dying.

            Slowly he stepped down from his pedestal, crouching briefly to touch the thick layer of grass beneath his feet before reaching behind him to find the flat top of his pedestal, running his hands over it quickly before taking a seat.

            Once comfortable he folded his hands in his lap.

            And then he waited.

            After a moment he heard unsteady footsteps approaching over the sounds of the fighting going on and he allowed his eyes to fall closed, his head tilting backwards as he braced himself for the final blow which he knew was coming…

            “Adya!”

            His sightless eyes snapped open in surprise.

            “Una?”

            A pair of trembling hands grabbed at his arm, pulling him up to his feet.

            “Una, what are you–?”

            “Come on!”

            And then she was dragging him along by his arm, her fingernails digging into his skin as she held onto him with all the strength she could muster, both of them stumbling as they hurried away from the fighting.

            Well…

            This wasn’t going according to plan at all.

 

A/N – I am so sorry for the long wait. Short Version – I got married. Yay! Then I had writers block. Boo! But now I’m back and my mind is overflowing with ideas. Yay! Comments/Suggestions are welcome as always. Marblez x


	13. The Arena, Day One

** The Arena, Day One  **

****

            His heart was beating so quickly he feared it would burst out from his chest.

            The ground was uneven underfoot, covered with a dangerous network of tree roots which had caused him to stumble more than once.

            Una said nothing.

            She clutched at his hand so tightly he was beginning to lose the feeling in his fingers as she dragged him further and further away from the Cornucopia.

            The sounds of fighting had long since faded.

            The fighting was over.

            For now.

            Eventually Una came to a rather abrupt halt, spinning on the spot and throwing herself into his arms with a loud sob.

            He said nothing.

            The first canon sounded as they held each other close.

            By the time the tenth had sounded they were both weeping openly, choking back their sobs as they collapsed to their knees never once letting go of each other.

            It was sometime later when they finally separated.

            “Adya?” Una asked softly once they were seated at the base of one of the many trees imagined were surrounding them, their sides pressed together from shoulder to knee. “Were you…were you really going to just sit there?”

            Adya sighed.

            “Yes.”

            “Why?”

            “I’m not getting out of here,” Adya answered simply, smiling sadly in her direction. “So I thought if I just sat there…and then just waited for…well…I thought if I did that I could at least ensure that my death would be remembered…”

            “Oh…”

            Reaching out blindly he found her hand, linking their fingers together.

            “Una?”

            “Yes?”

            “Why did you save me?”

            “I…I didn’t want to die alone.”

            Adya smiled sadly.

            “Ok…” he murmured, rubbing his thumb against his bottom lip as he allowed his mind to begin formulating some sort of plan for the immediate future. “Ok…then I guess we’re in this together then…so, first things first…where are we? I can smell trees and I can hear some birds a little way off.”

            “Yeah, we’re in some sort of wood,” Una confirmed. “The Cornucopia was in a clearing but we can’t go back there because…”

            Adya nodded in understanding.

            The Careers.

            Cato.

            “Ok…”

            His mind was a whirlwind of confusion.

            Not once since his name had been read out at the Reaping Ceremony had he expected to live this long, to survive past the bloodbath that was the Cornucopia.

            He had no idea what to do.

            “Right…”

            He sighed, desperately trying to bring order to his thoughts.

            “Did you manage to grab any supplies?”

            “Just one of the little bags,” Una answered, reaching across him to pick something up off of the group where she must have dropped it. “It was on the edge of the clearing. I grabbed it on my way to you.”

            “Ok…”

            He tried to remember everything Woof and Cecelia had taught them.

            “Have we got cover? I mean…can we be seen or are we hidden?”

            “We’re surrounded by bushes,” Una answered. “And a tree. I mean we’re leaning against it so you knew about the tree. We should be ok for a little while.”

            Adya nodded.

            “So what’s in the bag?”

            He listened to the sounds of her opening the bag, waiting silently as she tipped out the contents onto the ground beside her.

            “So?” he asked, trying not to sound too impatient with her after a rather lengthy pause. “What have we got?”

            “Um…a box of matches and a knife. A really small knife.”

            Adya frowned.

            “…is that it?” he found himself asking softly.

            “It’s a small bag.”

            Fantastic.

            Adya sighed.

            “I’ll admit I was hoping for a blanket or something,” he murmured. “I can already feel the temperature dropping which means tonight is going to be cold.”

            “Well, can’t we just make a fire?” Una asked. “We’ve got matches…”

            Adya rolled his sightless eyes in the direction of her voice.

            “Well of course we could do that if you want to attract every Career in the Arena,” he responded, shaking his head. “Smoke. The light of the flames. The smell of burning wood. They’d be on us minutes.”

            “…I hadn’t thought of that,” Una mumbled, her voice trembling even more than before as she passed both the matches and the knife over to Adya who quickly put both items in one of his jackets many pockets. “So…what are we going to do?”

            Adya fell silent for a moment, thinking back to the things they had been taught at the survival station during their training.

            _“There are three main ways to keep warm inside the Arena – the first is to build a fire. This is very risky and should only be done if you are very confident about the security of your location._

_“The second is to use one of the blankets or sleeping bags that are offered in the Cornucopia. Of course this requires surviving the Cornucopia itself._

_“The Third is the simplest method so long as you have someone you can trust. Share body heat. This works best if you maximise the amount of skin contact between you and the person you are sharing body heat with.”_

            As he’d already said a fire was definitely out and they didn’t have a blanket or a sleeping bag so that left…

            “We snuggle.”

            “…I beg your pardon?”

            Perhaps he shouldn’t have blurted it out quite like that.

            “We can share each other’s body heat,” he explained as simply as he could. “We can snuggle or cuddle, if you prefer, although they mean exactly the same thing. That way we’ll keep each other warm.”

            “Oh…ok…snuggling it is…”

            He could feel her beginning to smile beside him.

            He couldn’t blame.

            Given the danger of their current situation deciding that their best option for survival was to snuggle seemed a bit…surreal.

            “Now we need to make sure we can’t be seen,” Adya continued, reaching out with his free hand to find out just where the bushes Una spoke of were to give himself an idea of their surroundings.

His fingers met only air.

“You said we were surrounded by bushes?”

            “Yes, but you won’t be able to touch them,” Una answered quickly, holding tightly to his other hand. “They’re too far away.”

            “How far?”

            “Another hand or so?” Una didn’t sound very sure but he guessed that was simply because she wasn’t too sure how to measure distances.

            “How thick are they?” Adya asked.

            “Um…pretty thick?”

            Once again Una didn’t sound all that sure.

“Can you see through them?” Adya clarified his earlier question.

“Oh…um…only just.”

Adya let out a relived breath.

            “Good,” he murmured, patting the ground and smiling to himself as he found the ground covered with fallen leaves. “We can over ourselves with leaves. Guess it’s a good thing we’re wearing green after all.”

            Una agreed softly, moving away from him to gather up some leaves from the area surrounding their hiding place, returning to his side as quickly as she could.

            “The leaves are mostly brown, not green,” she murmured apologetically, placing the bundle of leaves on the floor between them. “Is that ok?”

            “It’s fine…”

            With any luck in the fading light they’d look like the ground should anything think to look through the bushes he hoped were surrounding them as much as his friend claimed they were.

            “Do you want me to keep watch for a bit?” Una offered as they set about finding a comfortable position to snuggle in before covering themselves with the leaves. “I mean, you won’t be…I…sorry…”

            “You need to get some sleep,” he interrupted her murmured apologies. “I can listen out for anything unusual and wake you if I hear someone coming. You’ve seen how good my hearing is.”

            “But you need sleep as well…” Una protested from where her head was now using his chest as a pillow, her body almost wrapped around his side.

            “I’ll wake you when I get tired,” he promised, knowing that of the two of them he would last the longest without sleep having had years of practise living alone on the streets of District 8.

            It was every man, or boy, for themselves on the streets.

            “You’re sure?”

            “Positive.”

            It seemed to take an age for his friends breathing to even out, signalling that she had dropped into the realm of dreams, leaving him alone to listen to the various sounds coming from the world surrounding him.

            Leaves continued to rustle in the breeze.

            As night fell, the air around him getting colder, the birds began to fall silent.

            Somewhere nearby a cricket began to sing, something he’d only heard once before and then it had been in a video shown to his class at school, not in real life.

            It was almost peaceful.

            So peaceful that he could almost forget why he was there.

            Almost.

            Hours passed in this peaceful manner, his mind conjuring up images long forgotten to match the sounds falling on his sensitive ears.

            And then he heard something moving above him, high in the trees.

            His breath seized in his chest.

            As suddenly as it began the noise stopped.

            He didn’t move.

            He waited.

            Nothing.

            He let out a deep breath.

            Relaxing back against the ground he smiled as he felt Una wriggling in her sleep, muttering under her breath as she pulled his arms tighter around her body, rubbing her face against the fabric of his jacket.

            It must have been an animal or something.

            Nothing to worry about.

            Cuddled up to Una as he was, the warmth of her body seeping into his own he felt sleep calling to him, a yawn breaking its way past his futile defences.

            His eyelids felt heavy.

            “Una?”

            No response.

            “Una?”

            “…what?” she finally mumbled, more asleep than awake. “Adya?”

            “Can you take over the watch for a bit? I need–”

            He was cut off by another yawn, this once even larger than the first.

            “O-Ok…” Una agreed, yawning herself as she brought a hand up to rub at her eyes. “What should I do if I see something?”

            “Run.”

            His answer were short and immediate.

            “What about you?”

            He could hear the fact that she was frowning in the tone of her voice.

            “I’d only slow you down.”

            Una huffed softly, shaking her head but sleep was dragging him down, plunging him into a familiar mess of remembered shapes and sounds and sights, colours more prominent than anything else as they always were in his dreams.

            His mind and body began to relax…

            “Adya!”

            Una’s scream snapped him back into the real world, his heart pounding as he found himself alone, his friend’s warmth gone from his body.

            “Una?” he asked, patting the ground where she had lain as he sat up. “Una?”

            That was when he heard it.

            Whimpering.

            Una.

            But there was something else.

            Breathing.

            “It’s the cripple.”

            He gasped, pushing himself up into a seated position.

            The Careers.

            They’d found them.

            “I’m sorry, Adya…”

            Una’s voice was little more than a sob.

            “I fell asleep…I’m sorry, Adya…I’m so sorry…”

            “Shut her up.”

            Glimmer.

            “I’m sor–”

            Una broke off with a frightened scream, her voice high and sharp, which was then cut off by a sickening gurgle.

            Something thudded to the ground.

            “Who knew you had it in you, lover boy,” Clove chuckled coldly, her voice little more than a sneer as she taunted someone in their group.

            “…Una?” Adya asked fearfully.

            His throat felt tight.

            A canon sounded.

            “Sorry, sweetheart,” Glimmer laughed down at him, even going so far as to pat him on the top of his head. “Your girlfriends a bit dead.”

            Adya felt something surging through his veins that he hadn’t felt since the fire which had caused the death of his parents and his own disfigurement had been discovered to be the work of arson.

            Anger.

            Rage.

            Hatred.

            He was aware of nothing other than her continued laughter.

            Cruel and grating.

            His hands moved of their own accord, burying them deep inside his jackets pockets so that his right hand could close around the handle of the knife.

            “You bitch…”

            Glimmer stopped laughing.

            “What did you call me?”

            Her voice was cold as she moved to stand directly in front of him.

            He smirked up at her.

            “I called you a bitch.”

            He moved quickly, throwing his body forwards so that his shoulder struck her leg, knocking her to the ground underneath him, giving him the perfect opportunity to draw the knife from his pocket and plunge it as deep as it would go into her side.

            Glimmer screamed.

            Pulling the knife out sharply he stabbed her again and again, her warm blood coating his hand, and it was only after the fourth stab wound had been delivered that he was pulled off of her body.

            An arm pressed across his throat, pinning his body to the tree.

            Glimmer whimpered.

            “That was for Una,” he spat in her direction, fighting against the hands holding him as the knife was forced out of his hand. “Bitch.”

            He prepared himself for the inevitable blow that would end his life.

            Perhaps Una would still be waiting for him…

            “Help me!” Glimmer demanded sharply, her voice trembling. “Cato!”

            “That’s a lot of blood…” a girl’s voice murmured, surprisingly unfamiliar.

            He didn’t think the Careers worked with anyone outside their circle.

            Adya smirked.

            “What are you waiting for?” he asked, directing his question to the person pinning him to the tree, spreading his arms wide. “Or would prefer for me to try and run? Because I can tell you right now I won’t give you the satisfaction.”

            “Cato…”

            “Shut up!”

            Adya felt his stomach clench at the sound of Cato’s voice so close to him.

            It was Cato who was pinning him to the tree.

            The boy who had kissed him.

            “I don’t feel…I think…”

            Glimmer’s voice was weak, making her sound young and vulnerable.

            Adya frowned.

            Could he have hit something vital?

            “Kill him, Cato!” Clove ordered sharply.

            “We need to get Glimmer back to camp before she loses too much blood…” the unfamiliar girl whimpered nervously. “We have medical supplies at the camp.”

            Glimmer let out a frightened sob.

            The pressure across his throat disappeared suddenly only to be replaced by the sharp point of a blade, pressed so tightly against his skin that it drew blood.

            “Cato!”

            The Careers breath hitched.

            “Please…” Adya found himself murmuring, closing his eyes in preparation of the end. “Cato…make it quick…”

            For a moment nothing happened.

            And then the blade was gone, leaving him to gasp loudly.

            “He comes with us.”

            Cato’s voice was soft but firm, a tone that Adya recognised as being one that couldn’t and more importantly shouldn’t be argued with.

            And yet Clove did.

            “Cato!”

            “I said he comes with us!”

            Adya couldn’t help but sigh, his body sagging with unexpected relief.

            What was it with people refusing to let him die?

 

A/N – Well I think it’s safe to say that my writers block has been well and truly banished. Two chapters written in as many days (but not posted quite as sharply unfortunately.) Comments/Suggestions always welcome. X


	14. The Arena, Day Two

**Warning - Naughtiness (nothing too graphic) towards the end of this chapter.**

** The Arena, Day Two **

 

            “So we’re collecting stays now, are we?” Clove grumbled sharply as the group made their way back to the Cornucopia where the Careers had set up their camp.

            Cato, guiding Adya with a hand on his elbow, sighed.

            “Because, correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t the aim of the game is to kill all of our opponents, not keep sparing the ones who _take your fancy_?”

            Wow.

            Her voice was really annoying.

            “First it was _Lover Boy_ …”

            “…who can help lead us to the _Burning Bitch_ ,” Cato responded calmly.

            Adya had no idea who they were talking about.

            “…then it was _Fish Girl_ …”

            That must be the girl from District Four who had gone ahead with the injured Glimmer, taking Marvel and _Lover Boy_ along for protection.

            “She’s useful for the moment and when she stops being useful she’ll be easy enough to get rid of. Same with _Sparky_ before you bring him up.”

            _Sparky._

            Who on earth was _Sparky_?

            Seriously, what was with all the code names?

            “And him? What possible use could we have for the cripple?” Clove demanded, poking him in the back of his head with what felt like the hilt of a knife. “Are you really going to try telling me that someone like him is going to be useful?”

            “No,” Cato responded sharply. “Adya isn’t useful. He’s mine.”

            Clove hissed angrily.

            “What does that mean?” she demanded, her voice clipped and sharp.

            They stopped moving.

            “This,” Cato answered simply and then there were soft lips pressed against his, soft familiar lips which quickly succeeded in dragging a little moan out of him when they pulled away just as suddenly.

            “He’s mine.”

            Clove said nothing.

            “Which means you don’t touch him. Are we clear?”

            Clove said nothing.

            “Are. We. Clear?”

            Judging by the sharp gasp Cato had grabbed hold of the other Tribute, most likely by her vulnerable throat.

            “Clove?”

            “Fine…” the female tribute finally spat. “Have you cripple plaything.”

            Adya heard her fight her way out of Cato’s grip and storm off.

            “You’re not a plaything,” Cato muttered angrily, his hand coming to rest on the back of Adyas neck, his thumb stroking across his soft skin.

            “I know,” Adya responded with a soft smiled, leaning into the touch.

            He did know.

            It was strange.

            He shouldn’t trust the career, he knew he shouldn’t.

            Logic dictated this fact.

            And yet he did.

            “Different time, different place and all that,” he murmured, reaching out with his hand to find Cato’s handsome face.

            He felt Cato smile sadly.

            “I’m sorry about your friend,” Cato surprised him by murmuring, nuzzling his cheek into the palm of Adyas hand. “I know how much you cared for her.”

            Adya felt tears well up in his eyes.

            “Thank you…” he finally murmured, copying Cato’s earlier action and stroking his thumb across the other boy’s skin. “And thank you for not being the one to do it.”

            They started walking once more, this time holding hands and talking softly.

            “By the way who on earth are _Lover Boy_ , the _Burning Bitch_ and _Sparky_? I figured out who _Fish Girl_ was on my own but I haven’t got a clue about those others,” Adya admitted softly. “And what’s with the nicknames anyway?”

            “It’s easier to kill someone if they don’t have a name,” Cato answered simply, squeezing Adyas hand. “Names make a person…I don’t know…real.”

            “Oh…”

            “And just so you can keep up _Lover Boy_ and the _Burning Bitch_ are the pair from District 12. He’s with us. She’s not,” Cato explained simply. “And _Sparky_ is the boy from District 3. Don’t actually know his real name anyway…”

            Adya nodded to show his understanding.

            It made sense to de-humanise your opponent when faced with a situation like they had been given.

            But…

            “You called me Adya,” he pointed out. “Clove called me the cripple and your plaything but you’ve only ever called me Adya.”

            “That’s because I don’t plan on killing you,” Cato explained firmly. “Ever.”

            The warmth around his heart was back.

            Their arrival at the Careers base camp put an end to their soft conversation as Cato was forced to slip on his Career mask once more.

            “You’ll be sleeping with me in my tent,” he informed Adya as they crossed the large clearing. “While we’re out hunting you’ll help Sparky with his little plan to help protect our valuable supplies.”

            “Ok.”

            Cato led him into the camp, muttering simple warning and instructions about its layout until finally Adya found himself sat on a container of some kind, a blanket round his legs and an apple in his hand.

            “ _Sparky_!” Cato called out sharply.

            Footsteps approached hesitantly.

            “Adya is your responsibility. Anything happens to him and I won’t care how useful you are. Got it?”

            “Got it.”

            _Sparky_ sounded unbearably young, his voice unbroken and trembling.

            Cato moved off to check on Glimmer who was still moaning in pain wherever it was they had put her.

            A body settled down beside him.

            “Hi.”

            Turning Adya smiled gently in the direction of the young voice.

            “Hi.”

            “I’m Sam, but everyone calls me _Sparky,_ ” the boy introduced himself softly. “Or at least everyone here does…”

            “Hi, Sam. I’m Adya,” he responded, offering his free hand for the other boy to shake. “And I’m sure this lot will call me some very colourful names but I much prefer the one my parents gave me.”

            “Me too…” Sam admitted. “Are you…are you and Cato…?”

            “I believe the easiest way to explain it is to say we have a _thing_.”

            “A thing?”

            Adya chuckled.

            “Yes. A thing.”

            “Oh.”

            “Yup. Took me by surprise at first too,” he founded himself admitting.

            “When did it start?” Sam asked.

            “Yesterday.”

            “Oh…”

            Adya smiled.

            Sitting on his container Adya listened to the camp being set up around him, Cato dictating the layout without question.

            Glimmer had finally gone quiet.

            “ _Fish Girl!_ Make yourself useful and get something ready for us to eat,” Cato ordered sharply. His footsteps approached. “ _Sparky_. Move.”

            Adya felt his newfound friend flinch away, all but falling off of the container in his hurry to move out of the way for Cato.

            “Don’t you like apples?” the Career asked as he sat down.

            “Oh,” Adya jumped slightly, his attention shifting to the piece of fruit still clutched in his hand. “No, I just…kind of forgot about it…”

            Rolling the piece of fruit over in his hands he brought it up to his mouth, sinking his teeth into the crisp skin and jumping as the juice burst out to drip uncontrollably down his chin.

            “You forgot you were hungry?” Cato asked with a chuckle, leaning down to help Adya wipe the juice off of his skin.

            “You’re very distracting,” Adya mumbled, his cheeks flushing red.

            “Good to know.”

            No one spoke as they ate their evening meal gathered around the small fire which had been built in the centre of their small camp.

            From what Adya could figure out the camp was made up of three small tents which had been place in a semi-circle around the mouth of the cornucopia along with a fourth tent which for some reason had no sides.

            “It’s a temporary shelter rather than a place to sleep, hence the lack of sides,” Cato had explained as he was showing Adya around the newly finished campsite, guiding his with gentle hands so that he could gain a mental picture of his new surroundings. “It’s called a gazebo.”

            Their supplies had been stacked up together in view of the camp and would be protected by “ _Sparky’s_ Idea” whatever that might be.

            “Until then someone’s of guard duty at all times,” Cato had ordered firmly. “Starting with you, _Lover Boy_.”

            He could feel the temperature beginning to drop as they finished their meal, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck as his body began to shiver ever so slightly as the plates and cutlery were gathered up to be washed.

            “ _Fish Girl._ You take over watch from _Lover Boy_ at midnight,” Cato ordered firmly, rising from his seat beside Adya. “Any mistakes and I will not hesitate to put my sword through your belly. Either of you.”

            Adya shuddered at the coldness in the other boy’s voice, hearing the Career and not the boy from the roof top garden who had feelings for him.

            “Marvel, you’ll take over at dawn,” Cato continued calmly. “Everyone else get some sleep. We’ve got a lot of hunting to tomorrow.”

            Marvel chuckled.

            “What about Glimmer?” Clove asked softly.

            Adya felt Cato shift uncomfortably beside him.

            “She’s your responsibility,” he answered. “As far as I’m concerned if she can’t defend herself against someone who can’t see she doesn’t deserve to be here.”

            Marvel grunted in obvious agreement which Adya found somewhat strange as the subject of their discussion was his District partner…but then perhaps not everyone was as close as he and Una had been…

            “Adya?”

            He turned his head towards the other boys much softer voice, smiling slightly as he felt Cato’s hand slip into his own.

            “You’re with me,” the Career reminded him, helping him to his feet and leading him towards one of the tents. “Careful. It’s quite small.”

            Nodding Adya carefully knelt down and felt around with his hands, getting an idea of how low the top of the tent was before carefully crawling inside.

            He felt the hard ground underneath the bottom of the tent change into something softer and paused.

            “It’s a sleeping bag,” Cato explained softly, following him into the tent and zipping the door closed behind him. “I hope you don’t mind sharing…”

            Adya felt his cheeks warm up.

            “I don’t mind…”

            It was a bit of a struggle at first to get them both inside the sleeping bag, a struggle which involved a lot of wriggling, “accidental” groping, an elbow to the stomach and quite a few muttered curses.

            But in the end they were both zipped comfortably inside the narrow cocoon of warmth, Adyas body pressed against Cato’s side leaving him with no choice but to use the other boy’s chest as a pillow.

            Judging by the pleased grunt he let out Cato didn’t seem to mind.

            Neither of them said anything for a long time, instead just lying there in silence listening to the sounds of their fellow Tributes settling down for the night, to the official broadcast of the days fallen Tributes, to the sounds of the Arena and most importantly to the sounds of each other, their breathing or heartbeat.

            “I wish there was a way I could protect you from all of this,” Cato eventually murmured, tightening his grip on the boy in his arms.

            Adya smiled softly.

            “You already have,” he murmured. “You and…and Una…”

            Biting his lip he felt his eyes begin to burn with tears for his fallen friend.

            “You know I never expected to survive the bloodbath…” he admitted softly, rubbing his cheek against Cato’s top. “I was going to sit there and wait. But Una…Una wasn’t having any of that…”

            “I’m glad…” Cato responded softly. “She was very brave.”

            “Didn’t do her much good in the end, did it?”

            Adya was surprised by the amount of bitterness that had crept into his tone.

            “No. It didn’t,” Cato conceded softly, running his fingers through Adyas soft hair. “But her family can be proud of her. She didn’t lose her compassion in here…didn’t allow herself to become a monster…”

            “You’re not a monster…” Adya protested softly, knowing exactly what the other boy was thinking.

            “No. I’m a Career.”

            Cato’s voice was bleak.

            “Cato…”

            “You’re going to survive this,” the other boy announced suddenly, his hand moving to cup Adyas jaw suddenly. “If it’s the last thing I do…in fact it probably will be but…you are going to survive this…I’ll get you home…”

            Adya chose to say nothing.

            He was under no delusions about his chances with or without Cato’s help.

            He’d be going home, yes, but it wouldn’t be as the Victor.

            It would be inside a coffin.

            “Adya?”

            Cato’s voice was much softer than before, almost hesitant.

            “Yes?”

            “Do you believe in love at first sight?” the Career asked softly.

            Adya paused.

            “I mean…not sight but…”

            Adya smiled.

            “I know what you meant…” he murmured, tilting his head up towards the other boy. “And…yes…I think now, after this…I do…”

            Cato sucked in a sharp breath.

            And then they were kissing.

            It began gently, a simple press of lips on lips which gradually grew into something much more heated.

            Adya gasped as a hand travelled down his side, trailing lightly before pushing up under the fabric of his short to find his warm skin.

            “Adya…” Cato breathed softly into the kiss, his fingers trembling as they stroked across the smooth skin covering his still slightly too prominent ribs. “Fuck…Adya…is this…too fast?”

            “No…” Adya found himself responding, slightly embarrassed to find his growing hardness trapped against Cato’s thigh. “Under normal…circumstances it would be but…considering how…short life can be in here…no…not at all…”

            Cato responded by rolling them so that his body was on top of Adyas.

            “Oh!”

            His body moved of its own accord, his back arching up off of the ground as their groins came into contact just as he felt Cato smirk against his lips, deepening the kiss as he slipped his other hand up under Adyas shirt.

            Adyas own hands seemed to have a mind of their own, moving from Cato’s strong shoulders down his sides until they came to rest on his bottom.

            “Fuck…” Cato gasped against his lips and Adya, smirking, pulled the other boys hips down onto his own.

            Fuck indeed...

            This was unlike anything he’d ever felt before in his life.

            It was like his body was on fire…

            Consumed by a burning passion that left him gasping for more…more…

            A hand pulled at his belt, loosening it enough so that said hand could then slip inside his trousers…

            “Oh fuck!”

            Cato chuckled breathlessly in his ear as his hand closed firmly around Adyas straining erection.

            “Shh…” he murmured softly as his hand began to move ever so slowly. “Don’t want the whole world to know what’s going on in here…”

            Adya couldn’t think.

            He’d never…

            No one had ever…

            Fuck…

            “Cato…”

            He could feel a sort of pressure building up inside of himself…

            “Fuck…” Cato gasped, “You’re so beautiful like this…”

            “I don’t…”

            Adya felt his body beginning to tense, starting right down at his toes but quickly spreading throughout his limbs…

            His back began to arch almost painfully as he threw his head back…

            “C-Cato…”

            “That’s it…” Cato panted, grinding his own hardness against Adyas thigh. “Let go for me, Adya, let go…”

            “Cato!”

            Adya let go.

            He couldn’t explain what happened.

            It felt as though his entire brain was being overloaded by pleasure…

            At first his body was locked in place but then, quite suddenly, he felt himself going completely limp as though his bones had turned to jelly.

            He was vaguely aware of Cato crying out as he found his own pleasure, of the gentle kisses that were pressed to his skin but eventually the call of sleep grew too strong and with a contented sigh he allowed himself to slip into the realm of dreams, safely cocooned in the arms of his lover.

 

A/N – As ever I’m terribly sorry about the delay but writer’s block is a right pain the arse. Comments and suggestions are welcome, as always.


	15. The Arena, Day Three

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Hunger Games or any of its characters. The many OC’s, however, are mine. :-)

Summary: Adya knew the moment his name was picked out of the bowl that he would not be coming back from the 74th Hunger Games…

**WARNINGS: SLASH! (M/M) VIOLENCE! ANGST! CHARACTER DEATH!**

****

** No One Knows Who I Am **

****

** The Arena, Day Three  **

****

            Adya woke groggily to the unmistakable sound of a canon, signalling the end of yet another innocent life inside the Arena.

            Beside him Cato sighed softly.

            “That makes twelve…”

            Adya frowned.

            “You’ve been keeping count?” he asked softly, rolling over to face the other boy, his hand moving so that his fingertips could brush the Careers strong cheekbones, following the contours of his handsome face down to his lips.

            Cato nodded.

            “If you want survive inside the Arena you have to know how many people you’re up against,” he answered, sounding as though her were reciting from a book. “Otherwise you could think that you’re the last one left, the Victor, and then someone could speak up behind you and stab you in the back whilst you’re celebrating. It’s happened.”

            “Oh.”

            Just then the air was filled with another sound only this time it was a scream of pure rage and it was coming from a worryingly familiar source.

            Clove.

            That could only mean one thing…

            Adya gasped as the zip to their tent was wrenched open so violently he heard the fabric around it tear as someone forced their way inside.

            “You fucking cripple!”

            Yep.

            Definitely Clove.

            Before he could react Adya felt someone grab hold of his ankles through the thick padding of the sleeping bag, gripping tight before proceeding to drag him out of the safety of the tent.

            The sleeping bag came with him, wrapping itself tightly around his legs as he was dragged across the ground and trapping himself inside.

            “I’ll kill you!”

            Adya was half expecting the blow that came out of nowhere, striking him in the cheekbone and sending his head snapping to the side.

            Hot.

            A hand grabbed hold of his head, forcing his face towards the unmistakable heat of the embers left over from their fire last night.

            “No!” he gasped, pushing away desperately, heedless of the pain in his scalp and the splinters digging into his hands. “Please…not…”

            Clove laughed coldly.

            “Is the little cripple afraid of the fire?” she cackled, pressing her knee between his shoulder blades as she pressed his face down into the embers. “Good.”

            He screamed.

            Fire…

            His face…

            He couldn’t…

            No…

            He barely noticed when the weight forcing him down into the relentless heat suddenly disappeared from his back, hands pulling him away from the embers, rolling him onto his back before gently smoothing his hair back from his face.   

            All he was aware was the pain…

            “Is he ok?”

            Voices…

            Familiar yet so far away…

            Something refreshingly cool pressed against his burned skin, the sharp increase in pain which followed making him gasp and instinctively flinch away.

            “It’s ok…”

            The soothing voice, whilst reassuring, wasn’t the one he wanted to hear.

            “Where’s Cato…?”

            He flinched as a burn across the corner of his mouth pulled as he spoke, making the pain even worse.

            “He’s dealing with Clove.”

            That simple phrase could mean a multitude of things given the current situation but, judging by the continued threats being screamed he hadn’t killed her.

            Yet.

            “Glimmers dead.”

            “Yeah, I kind of guessed that…” Adya mumbled, reaching up a shaking hand to try and figure out what damage had been done to his face.

            Joy.

            A new collection of scars to add to the ones he already had.

            “Fire…why does it always have to be fire…”

            “Because the universe has a cruel sense of humour,” his rescuer murmured, adding his own fingers to the mix as he assessed the damage. “It’s not too bad.”

            “Not too bad?”

            “Not too bad,” his rescuer, _Lover Boy_ , reassured him as he continued to press something cool to the worst of the burns. “I used to burn myself all the time back home, working in the bakery. You should see my forearms.”

            Adya smiled sadly.

            “If we keep them clean they should heal quickly.”

            “Thank you…um…I’m sorry but I can’t remember your name…”

            “Peeta,” the other boy responded. “My names Peeta.”

            “Adya.”

            “I know,” Peeta murmured, giving the particularly painful burn near the corner of his eye one final wipe with the damp cloth before taking it away. “And that’s where my medical knowledge ends I’m afraid.”

            “S’ok…”

            Clove cried out in pain.

            “Has he finally killed her?” he found himself asking.

            “No. But he has given her one heck of a bloody nose,” Peeta answered, moving away as hurried footsteps approached. “I’ve done what I can for him.”

            “Adya…”

            A strong body knelt beside his head, carefully pulling him up so that he was using a surprisingly comfortable pair of thighs as a pillow.

            “Are you ok?” Cato asked softly.

            “Not going to lie, I’ve been better…” he responded softly, reaching up to touch his lovers face. “What about you? Are you ok?”

            Cato sucked in a sharp breath.

            “If she even breaths near you again I’ll kill her without a second thought.”

            “…kay…”

            _Ping!_

            Adya frowned, tilting his head as he listened out for the strange sound.

            “What’s that?” he asked.

            “What’s what?”

            _Ping!_

            “That.”

            It was louder the second time.

            Closer.

            _Ping!_

            “Can’t you hear it?” he asked, leaning forwards as he turned his face towards the direction that the strange noise was coming from. “It’s coming from over there.”

            _Ping!_

            “It’s a parachute!”

            Sam’s exclamation was accompanied by the sound of rushing feet, no doubt someone going to fetch said parachute from wherever it had landed.

            “Who’s it for?” Cato demanded as the footsteps returned.

            “Um…”

            Adya listened as a latch was released.

            Something was dropped almost carelessly to the ground.

            A piece of paper was unfolded carefully.

            “…District 8,” Sam eventually answered.

            “Give it here, then.”

            Adya grunted softly in annoyance as the body beneath his shifted, dislodging his hand from the older boys face as Cato twisted to grab whatever had arrived.

            “What is it?” he asked once his boyfriend had returned to his earlier position.

            “What does it say on the note?” Cato demanded instead of answering him.

            “Um…” Sam mumbled and once more there was the sound of paper being unfolded. _“For the burns. Use it generously.”_

            “Use what generously?” Adya asked with a frown. “Cato?”

            “It’s some sort of cream,” Cato finally answered. “Someone must like you.”

            Adya smiled.

            His head felt unusually light, almost like it was made out of cotton wool.

            “I know…” he responded, reaching out once more to trace Cato’s beautifully defined cheekbones. “You like me…”

            “Not me,” Cato countered with a smile, cradling Adyas body in the curve of his arms as he worked to open the pot of cream. “Someone on the outside.”

            A gentle finger began dabbing the cream onto his face.

            Adya couldn’t hold back to the sigh of relief as whatever was in the cream instantly got to work, a soothing layer of coldness drawing out the worst of the pain.

            Tilting his head back he looked up at the sky with his sightless eyes.

            “…thank you…”

            Cato finished applying the miraculous cream quickly and, after throwing the empty pot away carefully rearranged the boy in his arms so that both of them would be able to sit more comfortably together.

            “How does that feel?” the Career asked softly.

            “You wouldn’t believe how much better my face feels right now…” he sighed, his fingertips following the familiar path of Cato’s arm once more so that he could find his face. “No more frowning…”

            Cato’s lips pulled up into an easy smile.

            “Um…Cato?” Marvel’s voice was almost hesitant.

            Cato stiffened beneath him, turning his head to look at the other Career.

            “What should we do with Glimmer?”

            “They won’t collect her body whilst it’s here with us,” Cato answered calmly, using his _I’m-The-Leader-Obey-Me-Or-Suffer-The-Consequences_ voice.

            Adya began to worry for his sanity when that voice only made him smile.

“Take it over to the other side of the clearing,” Cato finished, grunting as he received some sort of non-verbal reply from Marvel. “ _Fish Girl,_ make yourself useful and get us all something to eat. I’m bloody starving.”

“I’m…I’m not very good at cooking…” _Fish Girl_ admitted hesitantly.

            “I’ll do it,” Peeta announced. “I grew up in a bakery. I know how to cook.”

            Adya couldn’t help himself.

            “Don’t you mean bake?” he asked with a cheeky smile, the medicine in the cream only adding to the cotton wool feeling in his head. “I thought bakers baked.”

            “Yeah,” Peeta responded and he could hear the smile in his voice. “I certainly know how to bake but thanks to my mother’s insistence I also know how to cook.”

            Adya listened as Marvel removed Glimmers body from the campsite.

            “I don’t feel guilty.”

            The words surprised him as much as everyone else even though he was the one who had spoken, a frown marring his scarred face.

            “I know I should,” he continued, a blush working up his neck as he heard everyone pause to listen to him. “I killed her…but…she made me so angry…”

            Peeta paused where he was gathering the supplies he needed to make them all breakfast, clearing his throat softly before speaking up.

            “It’s the Games,” he said, his voice trembling. “If we let them they can change who we are, who we’ve always been. We’ve all seen it happen. The Games can make us into something that we’re not.”

            It was like all the sound had been sucked out of the Arena.

            He was right.

            Back home he would never have even considered lashing out at someone, certainly not with the intention of seriously harming them or worse, killing them.

            That wasn’t him.

            And yet here he was, a Tribute with one kill to his name.

            “Hey,” Cato’s voice interrupted his darkening thoughts. “Don’t. Don’t overthink this and make yourself into some evil monster. You’re not.”

“But I have changed…”

            “Yes,” Cato agreed softly, leaning down to press a kiss to Adya’s forehead. “But so have the rest of us. We have to if we’re going to survive.”

            Adya nodded, rubbing his cheek against the rough fabric of Cato’s shirt.

            “I do know one thing though,” Cato continued softly, his fingers playing absently with Adya’s hair. “I am a better person than I was before I met you. I was raised to be a monster. You reminded me what it is to be human.”

            Adya smiled.

            Breakfast, once it was ready, was surprisingly delicious given their current circumstances and Clove remained blissfully silent although Adya could have sworn he could feel her eyes on him the entire time.

            “That was good, _Lover Boy,_ ” Marvel laughed loudly. “You’d make someone a good little wife. Tell me, do you clean too? Mend clothes?”

            Peeta wisely chose not to answer.

            “ _Sparky. Fish Girl._ You’ll be staying at the camp today,” Cato ordered as the breakfast things were cleared away, his voice silky smooth and ever so deadly. “Prove to me it was worth my while letting you live.”

            Marvel chuckled darkly.

            “You’ll stay here with them,” Cato murmured in his ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek before rising to his feet. “ _Lover Boy._ You’re with us. Time for you to prove your worth and find your little _Burning Bitch._ ”

            It took him a moment to recognise the sounds he heard coming from the centre of the camp as those of the three Careers and Peeta arming themselves.

            “That was Glimmers bow.”

            Cloves voice was tight with emotion.

            “And now it’s mine.”

            Cato’s voice on the other hand was devoid of all emotion as he moved to kneel in front of Adya, setting something on the ground in between them before pressing something into the palm of his hand.

            “Keep this with you at all times,” he ordered softly, curling Adya’s fingers around what he assumed to be the hilt of a knife. “Do not be afraid to use it.”

            Adya nodded.

            A hand cupped his jaw, thumb stroking gently across his cheekbone.

            “Stay safe.”

            “You too,” he responded, turning his head to press a kiss to the smooth palm which had previously been pressed against his cheek. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

            Leaning back on his elbows, the knife held loosely in one hand, he stretched his legs out in front of him and tilted his head up towards the sun as he listened to the group of “hunters” as they made their way out of the clearing.

            A soft breeze rustled through the trees surrounding the clearing and somewhere not too far away a mockingjay sang a delicate little tune.

            For a moment it was almost as if he were in a different world.

            A peaceful world.

            “Ow!”

            Sam’s sharp hiss of pain broke through the illusion of peace.

            “Sam?” he called out, pushing himself up into a normal sitting position as he looked over towards the source of the noise. “You ok?”

            “M’fine…” Sam muttered. “Just took me by surprise…”

            “Um…what took you by surprise?” Adya asked with a frown, wondering just what Sam and _Fish Girl_ had been working on since the “hunter” had left. “What exactly have you two been doing?”

            “We’re digging up…” Sam trailed off, grunting breathlessly as he struggled with something for a moment. “We’re digging up the mines.”

            Adya frowned.

            “The mines…” he repeated incredulously. “As in the mines placed around the pedestals to blow us all sky high should we move too early? Those mines?”

            “Yes.”

            Something large and metallic was placed on the ground beside him.

            “…is that safe?”

            It certainly didn’t sound very safe.

            “Oh, it’s perfectly safe,” Sam reassured him breathlessly, kneeling beside the metal object. “These are pressure sensitive mines.”

            “…there’s more than one type of mine?” Adya couldn’t help but ask.

            “Of course.”

            _Of course._

            Sam’s tone made it very clear his answer should have been obvious.

            “But given the way they’ve been used in past games the mines were either going to be pressure sensitive mines or be ones that were triggered externally by the Gamemakers,” Sam continued calmly. “However after uncovering one of the mines I was able to determine that they were definitely pressure sensitive mines.”

            “…and that makes them safe?”

            “Yes,” the younger tribute reassured him. “Because these are pressure sensitive mines they must have an automatic shutdown that triggers at the end of the countdown otherwise we’d all have been blown up regardless of whether or not the games had officially started.”

            Ok.

            That made sense.

            Sort of…

            “But if they’ve been turned off why are you digging them up?” he asked as he heard Sam tinkering away with the mine right there beside him. “Doesn’t that make them a little bit useless now?”

            “Because if I’m right…and I hope I am otherwise your boyfriends literally going to kill me…I can reactivate them and we can use them to protect our supplies.”

            “…reactivate?”

            “Turn them back on…” Sam trailed off, humming thoughtfully for a moment before letting out a relieved sigh. “Yup. No problem.”

            No problem.

            “Where did you learn to do all of this?”

            “School, of course,” Sam answered simply, brushing his hands off on his trousers as he climbed back to his feet and stood over Adya. “Why? Didn’t you learn this sort of stuff back in District Eight?”

            “Um…”

            School.

            What had they taught him in school?

            “No. After learning the basics, you know, ready, writing and arithmetic we were tested and depending on what we scored we learned about our future trade,” Adya explained. “Sewing. Weaving. Dying. That sort of thing. A couple of people learned basic maintenance for the factory machines but nothing technical.”

            “Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense. What did you learn?” Sam asked as he returned to his earlier task of digging up the next mine. “Once you were tested.”

            “I never was. I lost my sight before I was old enough to be tested.”

            “Oh. Sorry.”

            For a moment there were only the sounds of the deadly weapons being carefully unearthed from the ground.

            “We learned about our trade too, back in District Four,” _Fish Girl_ piped up suddenly. “Unless we showed _promise_ and then we were trained for the games.”

            “You’re not allowed to train,” Sam pointed out. “It’s against the rules.”

            _Fish Girl_ gave no verbal answer.

            “Where do you want this thing anyway?” she asked suddenly.

            “Oh…um…I guess we could put them in front of the supply mountain for now,” Sam answered somewhat hesitantly. “Then we can figure out where to bury them before I reactivate them.”

            Again _Fish Girl_ gave no verbal answer but Adya could hear her obviously struggling to carry the mine over to the designated area.

            “Hey!” he called out, turning his head towards the noise she was making so she’d know he was addressing her. “What’s your name? I’m not a big fan of nicknames so I’d rather not have to keep referring to you as _Fish Girl_.”

            She was quiet for a moment.

            “Lillibet,” she eventually answered softy. “My name is Lillibet. Or Lilli.”

            “Hi Lilli. I’m Adya and if you can shorten that I’ll be impressed,” he responded with a smile. “This is Sam.”

            “Hi.”

            Sam’s voice was ever so shy.

            “Hi.”

            Lilli’s voice wasn’t much better.

            Adya smiled.

            “Adya?” Lilli called out suddenly after a few minutes of companionable silence. “Did you really sing to the Gamemakers?”

            “I did.”

            “Would you sing something for us now?”

            Her request was softly spoken, hesitant as though she expected him to refuse without giving it a second thought.

            “Sure,” he answered instead, smiling across at them. “Any requests?”

            “I doubt you’d know any of the songs from my District,” she responded sadly. “Something different might be nice though.”

            “Sam?” Adya asked.

            “Whatever you want to sing,” the younger boy responded.

            Adya nodded, settling into a more comfortable position as he decided what song to sing for them, the knife placed carefully on the ground beside his right foot.

            He wanted to sing something that would cheer them up, that would distract them from the impending slaughter looming in their futures.

            And yet the song that came to mind couldn’t be described as cheerful.

            It was hopeful, however, so maybe that would be enough for now.

_“Black clouds are behind me, I now can see ahead. Often I wonder why I try hoping for an end. Sorrow weighs my shoulders down, And trouble haunts my mind. But I know the present will not last, And tomorrow will be kinder.”_

Running his fingers through the long grass beneath him he smiled as he heard Sam and Lilli give up on their work, dropping whatever they had been using to dig up the mines before settling themselves down to listen to him.

_“Tomorrow will be kinder. It's true, I've seen it before. A brighter day is coming my way. Yes, tomorrow will be kinder.”_

His lilting voice was picked up by the gentle breeze, spreading it through the clearing until it seemed to echo inside the cornucopia.

_“Today I've cried a many tear, and pain is in my heart. Around me lies a somber scene, I don't know where to start. “But I feel warmth on my skin, The stars have all aligned. The wind has blown, but now I know, That tomorrow will be kinder.”_

It was inevitable that the lyrics of the song would bring his friend to mind.

            Una.

            The pain in his heart was for her.

He could still hear the echo of her scream playing the back of his mind. _“Tomorrow will be kinder. I know, I've seen it before. A brighter day is coming my way. Yes, tomorrow will be kinder. A brighter day is coming my way. Yes, tomorrow will be kinder.”_

            “Huh…” Lilli mumbled once he was finished, his head tilted back to enjoy the breeze moving through the clearing. “And you sang for the Gamemakers like that?”

            “I might have been a little bit more emotional, different song and all, but yes, basically,” Adya responded, rubbing his chest over his heart which had clenched uncomfortably as he sang, the words striking a deep chord within him. “Why?”

            “I was just wondering why they only gave you a training score of one if that’s the kind of thing you can produce at a moment’s notice.”

            “What, you think I should have been given a higher score?” Adya couldn’t help but scoff, smiling in her direction. “Could’ve sworn the aim of the game was to use our skills to survive to the end, be that a skill for fighting, hiding or tinkering.”

            This last skill was aimed across at where he could hear Sam doing just that.

            Tinkering.

            “I don’t think a talent for singing is viewed as being all that useful in here.”

            “Well…no…but I would’ve scored you higher, that’s all,” Lilli admitted, grunting almost painfully as she’d been unearthing for the duration of his song into her arms. “You’ve got a really nice voice.”

            “Thank you.”

            They worked in silence for a little while, Adya playing with the grass underneath him as he listened to the two of them make their way around the edge of the cornucopia digging up the currently non-lethal mines.

            “Is there anything I could be doing to help?” he eventually called out, sick of feeling entirely useless. “Something which doesn’t require, you know, sight?”

            “You could always give us something to listen to while we work,” Sam suggested as he staggered over to add another mine to the growing collection behind Adya. “It would be nice to have something to listen to while we work.”

            “Ok,” Adya agreed, wiping the bits of grass he’d gotten stuck to his fingers off on his trousers. “Just don’t be afraid to tell me to shut up if you don’t like the song or you get bored of listening to me. I won’t be offended.”

            And so, in the middle of the Hunger Games with the possibility of death just around the corner, he sang.

            He lost himself to the words…

To the melodies…

To the feelings each song succeeded in stirring deep inside of him…

            He allowed his mind to transport him back to happier times as song after song seemed to pour almost effortlessly out of him.

            Sam and Lilli had finished digging up the mines by the time the careers arrived back at the camp, hungry and frustrated after an unsuccessful day.

            Adya was mid-song.

            “What the…?”

            It was Sam who hushed the female career.

            Adya ducked his head to hide the broad grin which spread across his face before finishing the song with a dramatic flourish as he mentally praised the young tribute for standing up to the sharp tongued career.

            A familiar body settled down beside him.

            “One more and then I’m done for the day,” he croaked, his voice a little tired after singing for longer than he had in weeks.

            No one expressed an objection.

            He didn’t really think about the song before launching into it.

            Didn’t think about the way the lyrics of the old song, taught to him by his mother who had learnt it from her mother before her, could be interpreted as something far more rebellious than he intended them to be.

            To him it was just a song.

_“Through the dark,_

_And through the hunger._

_Through the night,_

_And through the fear._

_Through the fight,_

_And years of hardship._

_Through the storms,_

_And through the tears._

_And although your feet are weary,_

_And although your soul is worn._

_And although they'll try to break you,_

_And although you'll feel alone._

_We will always stand together,_

_In the dark, right through the storm._

_We will stand, shoulder to shoulder,_

_To keep us warm.”_

            A hand slipped into his, linking their fingers together and squeezing gently.

            Cato.

            Offering him silent support as he sang.

            He couldn’t help but smile towards the older boy as he launched into the slightly faster part of the song, punching the words out as clearly as he could.

_“And the stars look down on the mean and hungry,_

_And the stars look down and show the way._

_And the stars look down and we'll stand together,_

_To see a day._

_When the stars look down and know our history,_

_When the stars look down upon our past._

_And the stars look down and see a future bright at last,_

_When we'll stand as one, beneath the sun.”_

            As he sang he brought Cato’s hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin before playing with the strong fingers almost absentmindedly.

_“And though our hands,_

_Are bruised and bleeding._

_And our lungs are full with dust._

_And our hearts are near to breaking,_

_We will never forgo the trust._

_We will fight through pain and hunger,_

_Every arrow, every knife._

_And we will never give the hope up,_

_Of a proud and honest life._

_So we will always stand together,_

_Through the frost, the hail, the snow._

_The stars are our redemption,_

_And so we know.”_

            Never before had the words of the song meant so much to him.

            Never before had he really thought about what they really meant.

_“The stars look down when we're abandoned,_

_Look down in the heart of night._

_And the stars look down and give us vision,_

_To see the light._

_The stars look down upon our struggle,_

_The stars look down and know the past._

_The stars look down and see a future bright at last,_

_When we'll stand as one, beneath the sun._

_All out together._

_All out as one._

_All out for victory._

_Till we've won._

_All out together._

_All out as one._

_All out for victory._

_All out till we've won.”_

            He had no idea that his words had just fanned the sparks of a revolution beginning to grow in the background of the 74th Hunger Games.

            All he had done was sing a song.

 

A/N So the “revolution song” at the end…first time I heard this I couldn’t stop picturing District 12 and the revolution and so I just had to work it into this story somewhere. For those of you interested it is “Stars Look Down” from the musical Billy Elliot, lyrics by Elton John. The first song was “Tomorrow Will Be Kinder” by The Secret Sisters and can be found, funnily enough, on the Hunger Games soundtrack.

 


	16. The Arena, Day Four

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Hunger Games or any of its characters. The many OC’s, however, are mine. :-)

Summary: Adya knew the moment his name was picked out of the bowl that he would not be coming back from the 74th Hunger Games…

**WARNINGS: SLASH! (M/M) VIOLENCE! ANGST! CHARACTER DEATH!**

****

** No One Knows Who I Am **

 

** The Arena, Day Four  **

****

            Waking up in the safety of someone’s arms was still an alien feeling to Adya but it was definitely something he could get used to, the strong arms wrapped around his body and holding him close to the strong body of his lover a physical reminder that he wasn’t alone in the darkness.

            “Cato?” he whispered softly. “You awake?”

            “…no…”

            Adya smiled.

            He was pretty sure that a Career should be more alert first thing in the morning but judging by the sluggish response he got from the older boy that was not the case.

            “What time is it?” he pressed softly.

            Cato sighed somewhat dramatically, pushing himself up on one elbow and dislodging Adya’s head from his shoulder as he reached out to pull aside the door of their tent.

            “Early,” he answered simply. “Sun’s not finished rising yet.”

            Nodding Adya rolled away from the other boy, grateful that they had decided to use the sleeping bag more as a blanket last night and pushed himself up onto his knees.

            “What are you doing?”

            “I need to get up,” Adya answered, searching for the entrance of the tent with his hands. “Nature calls, I’m afraid, so I need to find myself a tree or a bush or…something.”

            Cato sighed loudly.

            “If you think I’m going to let you stumble around blindly looking for somewhere _safe_ to take a piss you’ve got another thing coming,” he muttered, throwing the sleeping bag aside and following the other boys as he crawled out of the tent.

            Adya paused when he felt the dew damp grass beneath his fingers.

            “Huh…” he mumbled, smiling to himself. “Different.”

            Grass was practically non-existent back in District Eight.

            He was used to feeling the rough sandy texture of bricks beneath his fingers or the cold lifelessness of concrete, sometimes even cobblestones depending on where he bedded down for the night but never anything as luxurious or soft as grass.

            Climbing to his feet he inhaled deeply.

            Now that he wasn’t being rudely awakened by someone trying to burn his face off he was able to pick out the unusual scents in the air, a mixture of unfamiliar aromas that blended together to create something so breathtakingly fresh it seemed almost unreal.

            “Is anyone else up yet?” he asked as Cato came to stand beside him.

            “Only Marvel,” Cato answered, taking Adya’s hand in his and linking their fingers together. “He took over from me on guard duty at midnight. Come on.”

            Adya allowed himself to be led away from the camp to a spot suitable for him to relieve himself whilst Cato stood guard, idly doing practise drills with his sword.

            “So you know how you were counting the cannons to find out how many Tributes were left?” Adya asked as he relieved his bladder, hoping that their conversation would draw the audience’s attention away from his actions. Cato grunted in response. “Have you managed to figure out who else is left? Apart from the seven of us, I mean.”

            “ _The Burning Bitch,_ ” Cato answered instantly. “ _Hop Along, Big Brute, Titch_ and _Big Eyes._ ”

            “…and in English?”

            Cato chuckled apologetically.

            “Sorry, I forgot you don’t think like a Career. Girl from Twelve. Boy from Ten. Boy from Eleven. Girl from Eleven. Girl from Five.”

            Adya nodded, blushing fiercely, as he gave himself a shake before tucking himself back inside his trousers, his hands making quick work of the zipper despite still being a little unused to having clothes that actually worked the way they were supposed to instead of being held up by a piece of string.

            “So obviously District Twelve is the _Burning Bitch,_ ” he mused, holding out his hand towards Cato and allowing the other boy to lead him back towards the camp. “And I’m guessing _Titch_ is that little girl from District Eleven.”

            Cato grunted softly in agreement.

            “ _Big Eyes_?”

            “Girl from Five,” Cato answered, his thumb absently tracing out patterns on the back of Adya’s hand. “I swear she’s got the biggest eyes I’ve ever seen…”

            “Dare I ask how _Hop Along_ earned his nickname?” he asked as Cato guided him down onto one of the crates being used as a seat around the still burning fire.

            Marvel laughed loudly from wherever he was stood on guard duty.

            “Because he’s a cripple, just like you.”

            Adya flinched.

            Cato moved away from him and soon after there was the unmistakable sound of flesh meeting flesh.

            Marvel grunted in pain.

            “He’s got something wrong with one of his legs,” Cato answered as he returned to Adya’s side, sitting beside him. “I’m actually a little bit surprised he’s made it this far on his own.”

            Across the fire Marvel was grumbling loudly.

            “So _Big Brute_ is the boy from District Eleven,” Adya concluded, hearing someone else approaching the fire, their feet dragging on the ground as they obviously struggled to wake up.

            “That one was easy,” Cato chuckled lightly. “Guys built like a house.”

            Adya smiled.

            Someone dropped down onto the seat on his other side.

            “Good morni…” Sam’s voice was interrupted by a loud yawn. “Sorry. I’ve never been very good in the mornings. My mum used to have to drag the blankets off of me to get me to actually get up.”

            “You’re not the only one,” Adya responded vaguely, allowing the other boy to interpret it as a statement about himself when really it was a gentle dig at the Career sitting on his other side. “Are we going to be re-burying the mines today?”

            “Hopefully,” Sam responded, his voice a little bit steadier. “I need to lay them out first and figure out a safe path for us to get to the supplies before I do anything more with them.”

            “Make sure the path is on this side of the supplies where we can see it,” Cato ordered, obviously gesturing to something Adya couldn’t see. “We need the other side to be as secure as possible.”

            “Ok. No problem.”

            Conversation waned for a little while, the four of them content to sit in silence until Clove, Peeta and Lillibet eventually joined them, the male tribute far too perky given the early hour.

            “I grew up in a bakery,” he explained when challenged by Sam, handing out fruit and some little wrapped squares for everyone to eat. “We’d normally be up earlier than this to get the first tray of bread in the oven so that people could buy it fresh for their breakfasts.”

            “I didn’t know you were a baker,” Adya admitted, frowning down at the wrapped square, his fingers fumbling unsuccessfully with the smooth wrapper until someone’s hands gently took it away from him and returned it a moment later unwrapped. “Thank you.”

            He bit off a corner and froze.

            “What is this?” he asked around the food in his mouth.

            “It’s called an _energy bar_ ,” Cato answered. “They’re a good source of, well, energy. Like the meals we had back in the Training Centre.”

            “And just like the food back in the Training Centre they taste foul.”

            It was a genuine struggle for him to eat the rest of the energy bar, grimacing with each foul mouthful and he was immensely grateful he’d saved his apple to have second, the sweet juice just about managing to erase the taste from his memory.

            “What did you eat back home?” Cato asked. “Our meals at the Academy were designed to give us the energy and nutrients we needed. They were similar to the meals we had at the Training Centre except they were designed to taste better.”

            “I survived on whatever I managed to find,” Adya answered with a shrug, making quick work of his apple. “People would sometimes give me scraps of food but mostly I’d save up whatever money I earned with my singing and buy some stale bread from the bakery.”

            “Fish,” Lillibet announced quickly, shifting in her seat as everyone’s attention moved to her. “We’d be able to buy whatever was left after the Capitol Quotas had been met so we almost always had access to reasonably fresh fish.”

            “There wasn’t anything special about–”

            “What’s that?”

            Adya felt guilty interrupting Sam but he was concerned about the scent he’d just picked up with his heightened senses.

            “What’s what?”

            “Oh, not this again…” Marvel muttered condescendingly, obviously thinking back to the similar conversation they’d had yesterday about the parachute.

            This was different.

            “I can smell smoke.”

            Marvel sniggered.

            “That would be from the fire in front of you.”

            Adya glared in his direction.

            “I am perfectly aware of the fact that there is a fire in front of me but I’m telling you I can smell smoke, _different_ smoke,” Adya announced firmly. “It’s not the same type of wood as ours.”

            “Wait, what’s that?” Clove asked from her spot on the other side of the fire. “Over there, above the trees.”

            “That would be smoke.”

            Cato sounded so smug that Adya couldn’t hold back a grin.

            “A lot of smoke,” the Career continued. “That’s no ordinary little fire.”

            It was decided that Cato, Clove, Marvel, Peeta and Lillibet would investigate the source of the fire while Sam and Adya stayed back at the camp, working on the mines and guarding the supplies.

            “What do you think it is?” Adya asked as he listened to Cato arming himself.

            “I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “Probably something the Gamemakers arranged, you know, like they do whatever someone strays too far from the main action or hides away for too long.”

            Adya remembered.

            He could remember people talking about things like that happening during past games, a Tribute who thought they’d found a safe place to hide out the worst of the fighting forced out into the open or killed by some kind of creature.

            “If we’re not back by nightfall you are not to come looking for us.”

            “But…”

            “You are not to come looking for us,” Cato repeated, his hands moving to cup Adya’s jaw and draw his face close to the other boys, their breath mingling between them. “Depending on the situation we might have to bed down in the woods for the night. Listen for cannons. Get Sam to watch the evening broadcast. But you wait here, understood?”

            Adya nodded.

            “Hopefully that won’t be necessary but when the Gamemakers start using their tricks you can never predict how the day will end,” Cato continued, using his grip on Adya’s face to pull him in for a semi-heated kiss. “I will come back to you.”

            “He really does care for you, doesn’t he?”

            Sam’s question broke the silence which had fallen after the groups departure.

            “The fact that I’m still alive is proof of that,” Adya responded. “So, mines?”

            “Mines.”

            There wasn’t much that Adya could do to help in regards to laying out the mines, figuring out the best placement to keep the supplies safe so for most of the morning he kept up a steady stream of conversation with the younger boy, adding in the occasional song when Sam requested one.

            “I think that’s enough about me,” Adya announced suddenly after a lengthy conversation describing the layout of his District. “Your turn. Tell me about yourself.”

            “What do you want to know?” Sam countered.

            “Tell me about your family.”

            “My dad’s a senior technician in one of the factories which makes things for the Capitol,” the younger boy responded, pausing to hum thoughtfully to himself. “If I move that one over there…”

            “And your mum?” Adya prompted.

            “She worked in a factory until they got married and started having babies,” Sam said, grunting as he moved one of the mines he’d laid out yet again. “There. That’ll do. Time to dig.”

            “I might be able to help with that,” Adya offered. “Show me where, how wide and how deep and I can dig you a hole. You might just need to keep an eye on my work, just in case.”

            “Sounds like a plan,” Sam responded cheerfully, hurrying over to guide Adya towards the mine closest to him. “I haven’t re-activated them yet so don’t worry about that.”

            Sam moved the mine out of the way and show Adya how big the hole needed to be, moving the blind boys hands across the ground so that he could create a mental picture for himself.

            “And depth?” Adya sked whilst Sam hurried away to get him a shovel.

            “The length of your arm will be fine.”

            Adya nodded.

            It wasn’t easy, especially not at first and not just because he couldn’t see.

            He’d never had cause to use a shovel in his life.

            But after a while he got the hang of it, figured out the best way for him to use the shovel and decided to start their conversation up again.

            “You said your mum stopped working when she started having babies,” he called out. “Does that mean you’ve got lots of brothers and sisters?”

            “Six brothers and two sisters, to be precise, with me in the middle.”

            “Six?” Adya gasped. “And two…so…you’re one of nine?”

            “Yup,” Sam confirmed. “Although Charlie…”

            Adya frowned as the younger boy trailed off, sighing sadly.

            “What about Charlie?” he prompted gently.

            “Charlie…Charlie was my oldest brother,” Sam finally explained. “He was Reaped when I was five. He did well, even made it into the final three. But…well…he was up against Finnick Odair and Charlie was clever, I mean really clever, but he was never going to win against Finnick Odair.”

            “I’m sorry,” Adya apologised sincerely.

            “Thanks…” Sam sighed. “Mum…mum never really got over it but I think having the rest of us kids helped, given that both of my sisters were born after Charlie had…after Charlies Games.”

            “So your sisters are the youngest?” Adya asked, attempting to steer the conversation back in a more pleasant direction. “They must hate having so many older brothers watching over them.”

            “It’s not too bad at the moment, they’re only seven themselves. They’re twins, you see?” Sam explained, slowly returning to digging his own hole in the ground. “But when they’re older and they want to start dating there’s going to be trouble, I guarantee it.”

            Adya chuckled along with the younger boy.

            The rest of their morning was spent digging, hole after hole after hole until by the time they decided to stop for something to eat they had dug almost half of the holes they required.

            “I never realised quite how much hard work digging is,” Adya admitted as they sat close together in the centre of the camp. “My back is killing me and don’t get me started on my arms…”

            “I know what you mean,” Sam responded with a pained grunt of his own. “But if we can keep up the pace we can have them all activated and buried by the time night falls which will be good.”

            “Slave driver…” Adya muttered, grinning brightly so that the other boy would understand he was only joking and wasn’t actually upset. “I suppose it’s better than feeling useless though…”

            After they had exhausted the subjects of their own lives, each of them (and the audience watching them) now knowing everything from their favourite colours (green for Adya, blue for Sam) to their favourite thing about the Capitol (the food for Adya, the chance to play with some of the advanced technology he’d seen being created back home for Sam) they moved onto a more generic selection of question that reduced the pair of them the fits of giggles as they got sillier and sillier.

            Soon they’d dug all of the holes they needed and Adya retreated to the safety of the camp while Sam went around placing each mine in its designated hole, re-activating each of them one at a time and then carefully burying them again.

            As night began to fall Adya couldn’t help but worry about Cato.

            “We didn’t hear any cannons,” he reassured himself. “So no one’s died.”

            Yet.

            “All done. And just in time too,” Sam announced. “Lights almost gone.”

            “We should get the fire going again before it’s too dark,” Adya suggested, nodding towards what he now referred to in his mind as the fire pit. “If it’s anything like last night it’s going to get cold really quickly.”

            Sam agreed.

            Once the fire was lit the pair of them used one of the sleeping bags as a blanket, draping it over their legs as they ate a small dinner of bread and dried meats, all collected from the pile of supplies before the mines had been activated.

            “No broadcast,” Sam suddenly pointed out.

            “No cannons,” Adya added. “No deaths to announce.”

            “Looks like they’re not coming back to the camp tonight,” Sam murmured softly. “This is going to sound completely crazy considering the fact that I know at some point in the future one of them is going to kill me but I kind of wish they had come back. I’d feel a lot safer if they were here too…”

            “I know what you mean,” Adya agreed with a sad smile, playing with the knife he had kept tucked inside his boot all day. “Strength in numbers and all that jazz.”

            Sam hummed softly in acknowledgement of his statement.

            “But don’t let me hear you counting yourself out of the running just yet,” he continued firmly. “You’ve got as much chance of winning this thing as the rest of us. More of a chance, actually, given that you’re ridiculously clever and have the use of all of your natural born senses.”

            Sam sighed.

            “Look, I’ll take the first watch…or rather first listen,” Adya made sure to chuckle at his own pathetic joke, trying to get the younger boy to smile. “I’ll wake you when it’s your turn.”

            “You sure?” Sam asked hesitantly.

            Adya nodded, shooing him towards the tents.

            “Ok. Just…yell if you need me.”

            “Will do.”

            He listened to the sounds of the younger boy crawling into his tent, listened to him sob quietly for a few minutes before his breathing finally calmed and evened out as he fell asleep.

            Adya sighed.

            Thanks to the lack of canons he could be sure that Cato was alive but there was no way of knowing what sort of state he was in.

            Was he hurt?

            Was he dying?

            Or was he alright?

            Adya tried to get his mind to fixate on that last option, trying to picture the image he’d created in his mind of Cato lying on the ground somewhere, gazing up at the night sky through the trees surrounding him, but apparently his mind was more inclined to focus on the first two options.

            Hurt.

            Dying.

            And then his mind came up with another option.

            Alone.

            What if Cato was alone in the woods?

            Alone and hurt?

            Alone and _dying_?

            His breath seized in his throat and Adya forced his mind to go blank, suddenly aware of how much he had been struggling to draw air into his lungs as his mind was consumed by panic.

            “You can’t think like that, Adya,” he told himself, clenching his fists on his knees. “Cato is fine. He’s one of the strongest people in here. He’s _fine_.”

            Perhaps if he kept repeating that to himself he’d finally be able to believe it.

 

A/N So…I was trying to write a chapter for my other story and this happened. It’s a bit of a “filler” chapter because nothing big happens but that’s just how it played out. As we all know that action is going to heat up soon… Comments/Suggestions welcome as always. X

 


	17. The Arena, Day Five

**WARNING – THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS NON-CON / ATTEMPTED RAPE.**

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** The Arena, Day Five **

****

            “Adya! Look out!”

            Under any other circumstances Adya would have responded to his friends cry with a logical argument that he couldn’t “look out” at anything.

            However this wasn’t any other circumstances.

            This was the Hunger Games and if someone called out for you to “look out” that usually meant something bad and most likely deadly was about to happen.

            He was fumbling with the knife which he had stupidly tucked into his belt when something slammed into his body from behind, knocking him to the ground with a startled cry of fear and pain.

            His attacker snatched the knife out of his hands.

            So this was it.

            This was how he was going to die.

            I’m sorry, Cato…

            His attacker grabbed hold of his wrists, pulling them behind his back and binding them tightly together with a piece of rope.

            “No…” Adya gasped when he felt his attacker grind his hips down against Adya’s upturned buttocks. “Stop…”

            He flinched as the knife was used to cut through his belt.

            Struggling to get away from his attacker only seemed to anger them further, a series of sharp blows leaving Adya stunned, gasping for breath and completely unable to fight back when his trousers were literally torn from his body.

            His underwear followed soon after.

            “No!”

            Adya screamed, his body thrashing desperately as he fought back as best as he could when he felt what was unmistakably a sizeable erection press down against the bare skin of his ass.

            “No! Cato! Help me!”

            His struggles came to an abrupt halt when his attacker finally spoke, lips brushing against the shell of his ear,

            “Mine…”

            Cato.

            His attacker was Cato.

            “Mine…”

            What was wrong with him?

            Adya felt tears spill out of his eyes, dripping down his cheeks as his lover began grinding himself against him, muttering almost feverishly.

            “Cato…please…” he whimpered, his breath hitching painfully in his chest as he struggled feebly against the strong body assaulting him. “Please…stop…”

            “Mine…”

            Adya cried out in pain, his sightless eyes widening with shock, when he felt Cato’s fingers probing roughly at his entrance.

            Why was he doing this?

            What was wrong with him?

            Adya let out what could only be described as an inhuman scream when he felt Cato press his fingers deep inside his untouched hole.

            “No!”

            Sam.

            A loud metallic thud followed his young friends scream of anger and Adya was shocked to feel Cato slump limply on top of him, his body completely boneless.

            “Adya!”

            Sam struggled to roll Cato’s unconscious body off of his back, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he fought against the knots binding Adya’s wrists together.

“Are you ok? Did he…did he…?”

Adya sucked in a sharp lungful of air, his whole body trembling as he allowed Sam to pull up his underwear and what was left of his trousers.

            “N-No…why…why would he do that to me?”

            “They’ve been stung…” Sam responded softly, his hands trembling as he removed what was left of Adya’s belt before replacing it with his own. “I think…I think they’ve been stung by Tracker Jackers…”

            “…they?”

            “Clove collapsed on the other side of the Cornucopia,” Sam explained softly, sitting down beside Adya. “Marvel is…he’s not himself either. He attacked me but…but he was hysterical…barely functioning…”

            “And Cato…” Adya paused, gulping loudly. “Cato tried to…”

            Without warning his stomach rebelled and he rolled away just in time to empty its contents onto the ground, heaving loudly and painfully.

            “I don’t…I don’t think it was really him…” Sam mumbled, placing a sympathetic hand on his back. “Even a single sting can cause vivid hallucinations. With the amount of stings he’s received…”

            “He wasn’t himself…”

            Adya choked back a sob.

            It wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been, to find out that his boyfriend had only assaulted him because he was under the influence of a hallucination.

            What sort of a hallucination could it be to make Cato think it was all right to try and…to try and rape him?

            “I hit him over the head with one of the container lids,” Sam continued softly, his hand rubbing gently across Adyas shaking back. “There’s no sign of Lillibet…”

            Coughing deeply Adya deduced that his stomach was done for the moment and rolled himself back into a sitting position, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth before he suggested sadly,

            “Perhaps she was the one they sounded that cannon for earlier on? I mean, if she was with them then she probably got stung and everyone knows that you can die from too many Tracker Jacker stings…”

            “We were told that even one sting can be fatal,” Sam agreed softly. “Adya? What should we do? About Clove and Marvel and…Cato?”

            Adya sighed.

            He knew what they _should_ do.

            Finnish them off while they were too weak to defend themselves.

            Eliminate the rest of the Careers from the 74th Hunger Games and give the rest of them a fighting chance…

            …but that just wasn’t him.

            He wasn’t a cold bloodied murderer.

            Yes, he’d killed Glimmer but only because of what she’d done, only because she hadn’t given Una the opportunity to at least defend herself.

            If he killed or allowed Sam to kill the three Careers in their current state of vulnerability how was he any better than they were?

            “We should do what we can to help them,” he finally answered the younger boy softly, his sightless eyes searching out his boyfriends unconscious form, easily identified by the way he was currently struggling to breath. “There must be some medical supplies that we can use to treat the stings…”

            Sam hesitated, quite understandably.

            “…we’re going to help them?”

            “Yes.”

            “…why?”

            Adya sighed.

            “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

            Now it was Sam’s turn to sigh.

            “Ok…”

            Adya knew that this decision would come back to bit him in the ass later, probably when Clove finally got her wish and gutted him like a fish, but he didn’t falter in his decision to do the right thing.

            He would not allow the Capitol and these games to turn him into something he wasn’t, to twist him and make him a cold blooded murderer.

            He entered these games as Adya Kaminski, the blind boy from District Eight and he would exit these games as Adya Kaminski, the blind boy from District Eight.

            Not Adya Kaminski, the murderer.

            “We should probably get them inside their tents before we start looking for the medicine,” Adya suggested softly as he struggled unsteadily to his feet, grateful for the gentle hands which quickly moved to steady him.

            Cato, still unconscious from the blow to his head, was relatively easy to move inside the tent they had been sharing despite being surprisingly heavy.

            Clove was a little bit more difficult, twitching uncontrollably as he body fought against the venom pulsing through her veins, whimpering in fear and pain when they finally laid her down on top of her sleeping bag.

            Marvel was the most difficult of the three to move simply because he was still conscious, his large frame working against him as his body resisted the venom being pumped through his system without knocking him out.

            He really had been reduced to little more than a gibbering wreck.

            He fought weakly against them as they forced him into the same tent as Clove, almost like a child would fight against its nightmares.

            “This would be a lot easier if we knocked him out…” Sam grunted.

            “Unlikely,” Adya responded. “I dread to think what he weighs. No way we could carry him between us. Cato was heavy enough.”

            Searching the supply pile, after navigating the active minefield now surrounding it, took a lot longer than anticipated and by the time Sam emerged triumphant it was rapidly cooling off and, according to the younger boy with fully functioning eyesight, it was getting darker.

            “We need to remove the stingers and spread the cream over the stings,” Sam read aloud from the instructions that had been included with the medicine, just as the daily broadcast began. He sighed sadly. “That cannon we heard was for Lillibet.”

            Adya shuddered.

            If she’d been killed whilst with the other that meant she’d probably been strung to death, her body overwhelmed by the venom or the hallucinations…or both…what a truly horrific was you go…

            “I’ll sort out Cato,” he announced, holding out his hand to accept the pot of medicine. “Can you handle Clove and Marvel?”

            “I found a headlamp torch so I should have enough light,” Sam responded. “If I need your help I’ll yell. Hopefully they’re both unconscious by now…”

            Adya slowly made his way back inside the tent he shared with Cato, placing the pot of medicine down near the door before he began carefully stripping his boyfriend’s body down to his underwear.

            “A-Adya…?”

            He froze, his hand resting on Cato’s should where he had just begun his careful search for the stings.

            “Adya? Where are you?”

            Cato’s voice was weak, little more than a whisper and his body remained perfectly still beneath Adyas trembling hands.

            “No…please…not Adya…”

            He was hallucinating.

            “I…I’m here, Cato…” he responded somewhat nervously, his body tensed up as he prepared to throw himself away from his boyfriend should the other boy react as violently as he had before.

            “Please…not Adya…”

            This was a different hallucination.

            “I’m here, Cato,” he murmured as reassuringly as he could, using his fingertips to search out the large stingers poking out of the equally large bumps on his boyfriend’s skin. “I’m here. It’s ok…”

            One by one he removed the deadly stingers, working slowly and carefully so as not to miss any of them despite not being able to see them, all the while reassuring Cato softly as the older boy whimpered and cried and begged, his mind being tortured by whatever the venom was forcing him to see.

            He could hear the voice of the trainer back at the Tribute Centre playing through his head as he worked, mentally counting the number of stings he came across whether they still had a stringer in them or not,

            “ _Most people can’t tolerate more than a few stings. Most die at once. If you do manage to survive the hallucinations brought on by the deadly venom have been known to drive people insane.”_

Cato had been stung nine times.

            By all accounts he should be dead.

            Adya found himself weeping softly as he covered each of the stings he’d found with a liberal amount of the medicine Sam had found.

            The effect was almost instantaneous, Cato letting out a deep sigh of relief before falling silent for the first time in hours.

            “Hey,” Sam’s soft voice came from the entrance to the tent. “You ok?”

            “Yeah,” Adya mumbled, wiping his hands on his trousers before using his sleeve to wipe away his tears. “You? I didn’t hear you call out…”

            “I’m fine,” Sam answered, moving to sit beside him. “Clove’s pretty bad though. Shaking. Barely breathing.”

            “She’s a lot smaller than Cato and Marvel, isn’t she?” Adya murmured softly. “She’s got less to fight the venom off with than they do.”

            “I suppose so,” Sam agreed with him, his voice equally as soft. “Marvel’s out like a light, finally. Whatever he was seeing must have been really bad, the way he kept reacting like a scared little toddler.”

            “Everyone’s afraid of something.”

            “I realised something while I was treating Clove,” Sam spoke up suddenly after a moment of silence. “Where’s Peeta? He’s not dead, no cannon and no picture in the sky but he’d not here.”

            Adya frowned.

            He was ashamed to admit, even just to himself, that he’d completely forgotten about the other boy.

            “There’s…there’s blood on Cato’s sword…” Sam blurted out suddenly. “You don’t think Peeta had something to do with them all being stung, do you?”

            Adya shrugged.

            “We’ll have to wait until they wake up to find out,” he answered. “I’ll take first watch, if you want. Don’t think I’m going to get much sleep tonight anyway…”

            “Ok. I was just gonna grab some food before turning in,” Sam said, already on his way out of the tent. “I’ll bring you something as well.”

            “Thanks…”

            Once alone with his boyfriend he began feeling around with his hands until he found the spare sleeping bag which they had been using as a pillow and carefully inserted it beneath the sleeping tributes head.

            Pausing for a moment he carefully smoothed Cato’s hair off of his clammy forehead before beginning to search for the other sleeping bag which they had been using as a blanket…and of course it was underneath his boyfriend’s body.

            “Where else would it be, somewhere where it was easily accessible?” he muttered to himself as he began to struggle to get the sleeping bag free without waking the unconscious boy. “No, because that would be too sensible…”

            He had just succeeded in getting his boyfriend covered in the sleeping bag when Sam returned with the promised food – a couple of slightly stale rolls from District Five and a tasteless energy bar each.

            “Sorry, I didn’t fancy climbing the supply mountain in the dark,” he explained apologetically as they tucked into their meagre food. “Not even with the head torch I found. It’s just too dangerous.”

            Adya agreed with him.

            “No need to take any unnecessary risks,” he murmured softly.

            Sam snorted.

            “You mean like healing the three people most likely to kill us?”

            “Yeah,” Adya chuckled in response, wiping his fingers clean on his trousers. “What sort of idiots would do something as stupid as that?”

            “A couple of idiots who’d rather be remembered for helping people than killing them in their sleep?” Sam suggested, confirming Adyas suspicion that the younger boy had been thinking the same things as him all along. “And you never know, we might get killed by the _Girl on Fire_ like everyone was predicting before the games had even started.”

            “I thought it was the _Burning Bitch_?” Adya asked, pretending to be confused and receiving a chuckle in response. “I thought the odds were against her, or so my idiot of an escort delighted in telling me.”

            “They weren’t against her as such but she wasn’t a stand out favourite if you only take them in to account. She got 7-1 odds, same as Glimmer*,” Sam explained, obviously in his element relaying facts and figures. “Better than most. Way better than my own pathetic 22-1.”

            “22-1? Really? Those are the odds they gave you?” Adya asked, startled by how low his resourceful friends odds of winning were. “I’m guessing they didn’t take your brain into account then.”

            “No,” Sam chuckled wryly. “I wasn’t the worst thought, the boy from seven had odds of 25-1.”

            “And yet District Twelve are the favourites to win, huh?”

            “First volunteer in…well, I don’t know how long but it’s been so long it’s practically unheard of…who managed to achieve a training score of eleven, highest score this year and who spent most of her public appearances literally on fire.”

            Adya couldn’t hold back a shudder.

            If Willow had tried to set him on fire in the name of “fashion” he didn’t know he would have done but it wouldn’t have been pretty.

            “Yeah, she’s a Capitol favourite.”

            Cato’s voice, feeble as it was, startled both of them so much that the pair of them literally jumped in shock,

            “Stupid bitch…”

            “Cato?”

            “Stupid tree…”

            Adya frowned.

            “I think he’s still unconscious,” Sam murmured. “His eyes are closed…”

            “What tree?”

            “No idea,” Sam responded, every bit as confused as Adya.

            “No, not the starfish…the sea monkey has my money…”

            Adya guffawed loudly.

            “Yes, I’m a natural blue…”

            Sam giggled.

            “His dreams sound…interesting…” he mused, struggling to control his giggles. “I’m going to assume that the venom is still affecting him or my view of the _big bad career_ will be forever changed…like with Marvel, or should I say, the toddler.”

            Adya chuckled.

            “We should probably try and get some sleep ourselves,” he suggested. “There’s no telling what the three of them will be like come the morning. We could have an…interesting day ahead of us.”

            “Interesting. What a thoroughly diplomatic way to put it,” Sam responded, crawling slowly towards the entrance of the tent. “I don’t mind taking the first watch. I’ll wake you in a couple of hours.”

            Adya agreed softly.

            He sat still for a moment, listening to the world around him.

            Clove was completely silent in the other tent but Marvel kept yelping every now and then, his booming voice filling the night air each time.

            He listened as Sam took the time to build a fresh fire in the fire pit, humming softly to himself as he worked and Adya was flattered to realise that Sam was humming one of the songs he had sung the other day.

            After a little while of nothing else happening he crawled over to his boyfriend and stretched out beside him, grateful that his earlier violence seemed to have passed, replaced by mumbled which consisted of complete and utter nonsense,

            “…bobbing along…on the bottom of the beautiful briny sea…what do you mean you not lucky…scary feet scary feet scary feet…”

            Adya smiled.

            Closing his eyes he allowed Cato’s soft voice to lull him to sleep.

            “…phenomenal cosmic power…itty bitty living space…do I know the muffin man? No…no I don’t. Do you know the muffin man? Everything’s shiny…”

           

A/N So…who knew Cato was such a Disney geek when he’s high? Yeah, me neither, just sort of happened that way. Anyway hope you all like it…also hope it wasn’t too graphic… Comments and suggestions welcomed as always. X

 

* made up because apparently Katniss’ training scores remain a mystery even to the never ending resources of the internet…


	18. The Arena, Day Six

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Hunger Games or any of its characters. The many OC’s, however, are mine. :-)

Summary: Adya knew the moment his name was picked out of the bowl that he would not be coming back from the 74th Hunger Games…

**WARNINGS: SLASH! (M/M) VIOLENCE! ANGST! CHARACTER DEATH!**

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** No One Knows Who I Am **

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** The Arena, Day Six **

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“Ok, here’s another one – what’s full of holes but still holds water?”

Adya frowned.

He and Sam had been playing a game of riddles since sharing a small breakfast of toasted bread complete with a thick coating of butter, courtesy of the supply mountain, and it had quickly become apparent that the younger boy was far superior when it came to setting and solving logic problems.

“Um…” he sighed thoughtfully, tapping out a random rhythm on his thighs. “Full of holes but still holds…not a bucket then…or a cup…”

“Give up?”

Adya sighed.

“Go on then, tell me what’s full of holes but still holds water?”

“A sponge.”

“…I hate riddles…”

Sam laughed triumphantly.

“One more and then I’ll go mountaineering to get us some lunch,” the younger boy announced, brushing the grass off his trousers as he got to his feet. “What comes once in a minutes, twice in a moment but never in a thousand years?”

“…I have absolutely no idea…”

Frowning to himself Adya tried once again to figure out the riddle he had been set while his friend navigated the minefield and gathered the supplies they required to make themselves a tasty and fulfilling lunch.

“Minute. Moment,” Adya murmured thoughtfully. “A thousand years…”

“The letter _M_.”

Adya jumped in surprise, almost falling off of the box he was using as a seat as he spun to face the owner of the deep voice.

Marvel.

“…I beg your pardon?” Adya finally managed to mumble, following the other boys progress as he moved slowly to sit down on the opposite side of the fire pit.

“What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment but never in a thousand years?” Marvel repeated the riddle he’d been set. “The letter _M_. That’s the answer.”

“Huh…”

“He’s right,” Sam confirmed as he reappeared at the fire pit, putting the things he’d collected down beside Adya. “How are you feeling?”

Adya surmised that Sam wasn’t speaking to him this time.

“We didn’t think any of you would be up and about today,” the younger boy continued nonchalantly. “Not after the amount of stings you all suffered.”

“…you looked after us?”

Marvel sounded more than a little bit confused, more so than he had when solving the riddle which had flummoxed Adya so easily.

“Yes.”

“But…why would you help us? Why not just kill us and be done with it?”

“We helped you because, enemy or not, it was the right thing to do,” Adya answered without hesitation, using his fingers to brush his messy fringe out of his eyes, useless as they were. “

“But that’s…”

“Stupid. Yeah, we know,” Sam finished for the Career. “Apple?”

Adya chuckled.

“I’m amazed there’s any left, given the amount we’ve eaten already,” he commented, holding his hand out for one of the apples the other boy was offering. “Not that I’m complaining…”

“Don’t worry, there’s still another bag of apples we haven’t touched yet,” Sam reassured him as he leaned across to press one of the pieces of fruit into Adyas hand. “Marvel?”

“Sure, why not?”

Adya listened, rolling his apple back and forth between his hands, as Sam tossed Marvel one of the apples and the Career fumbled to catch it, cursing sharply.

“Damn!”

“It’s the after effects of the venom,” Sam supplied, moving to sit beside Adya as he bit into his own apple. “It should wear off in a little while.”

For a little while the only sound in their little campsite were the distinct noises on the three of them eating the ridiculously juicy apples, struggling not to make too much of a mess.

Of course Adya failed in that department, as per usual.

"You've got a bit of..."

He expected it to be Sam who reached out to wipe the juice from his cheek. 

It wasn't. 

The gentle hand which cupped his jaw and then began wiping away the sticky juice was much larger than his younger friends and the faint trembling only served to confirm that the person taking the time and care to clean him up was in fact Marvel.

"Thanks..."

Marvels on response was a soft grunt before he set about retrieving one of the bottles of water from the supply mountain with Sam, being his usual helpful self, guiding his way through the mines.

"...ok, go to your left...yup...and then....don't put your foot down there...!"

Adya smiled to himself as Marvel muttered an apology in response to his friend’s sharp warning, muttering to himself about not getting killed off by one of their own mines before continuing with his ascent.

Inside their tent Cato let out a groan, the fabric of the sleeping bag rustling as he shifted around but before Adya could even begin to move out of his seat to go to him he’d calmed down once more.

"Hey!" Marvels barking voice came from high up behind him and he turned angling his head upwards. "How about a song to pass the time?"

That tracker-jacker venom must have done a real number on Marvel for him to not only be taking their advice before carefully listening to their instructions but also ever so politely requesting a song.

Perhaps Clove would wake up giggling about boys and pretty shoes...

Not even tracker jacket venom could work a miracle like that. 

"Any particular song you've got in mind?" 

“He can’t see you, remember?”

Sam sounded a little bit amused.

“Sorry. I forgot. I’m not all that fussed about what you sing so as longs as it’s not one of those stupid ones inspired by the Games.”

Adya visibly shuddered as he thought of what classed for music in the Capitol, in particular the popular trend of the “artist of the moment” creating a song inspired by the Victors and their Games.

"What, not a fan of ‘ _And then his knife, shining like the sun, descended upon her beating heart’_ ," he sang, pitching his voice in a remarkably good imitation of the Capitol falsetto with extra vibrato for good measure. 

"Funnily enough, no," Marvel responded as he climbed back down the mountain. "I've got nothing against the songs in general but some of the singers..."

"And let's not go into the lyrics..." Sam added, still guiding Marvel when he went ever so slightly wrong whilst exiting the minefield. "Do you remember the one they did for Johanna Mason?"

Adya shuddered.

" _Hiding, hiding, hiding in the tree. Waiting for the ever so perfect opportunity,_ " he sang the ridiculously chipper song with the same effected voice that he had used before, one which the Capitol encouraged them to teach to the little children in their schools. " _Waiting, waiting, waiting in the tree. Dropping like a tiger on the boy from District Three._ "

"Which is made doubly ridiculous by the fact that when she dropped out of the tree it wasn’t the boy from District Five she killed, not District Three," Marvel grumbled, unscrewing the cap on his freshly retrieved bottle of water. "Can't fight the facts when the vids are public record."

"Ah, but Five doesn't rhyme with tree," Sam pointed out brightly. "And I imagine finding the _perfect_ rhyme was far more important than accuracy."

"Probably," Marvel grunted. "So anything but one of them and it'll be fine."

Adya nodded.

The _Victor Songs_ which he’d been asked to perform by numerous Peacekeepers over the years were truly awful, all pretty little flourishes with no actually substance…unlike the song which had just popped into his head which would be a much better example of how to use rhymes properly in a song.

He had a feeling Marvel would approve of the content as well. 

_“I have often dreamed,_

_Of a far off place,_

_Where a hero's welcome,_

_Would be waiting for me,_

_Where the crowds will cheer,_

_When they see my face,_

_And a voice keeps saying,_

_This is where I'm meant to be._

_I'll be there someday,_

_I can go the distance,_

_I will find my way,_

_If I can be strong,_

_I know ev'ry mile,_

_Will be worth my while,_

_When I go the distance,_

_I'll be right where I belong._

_Down an unknown road,_

_To embrace my fate,_

_Though the road may wander,_

_It will lead me to you,_

_And a thousand years,_

_Would be worth the wait,_

_It may take a lifetime,_

_But somehow I'll see it through._

_And I won't look back,_

_I can go the distance,_

_And I'll stay on track,_

_No I won't accept defeat,_

_It's an uphill slope,_

_But I won't lose hope,_

_Till I go the distance,_

_And my journey is complete._

_But to look beyond the glory is the hardest part,_

_For a hero's strength is measured by his heart._

_Like a shooting star,_

_I can go the distance,_

_I will search the world,_

_I will face its harms,_

_I don't care how far,_

_I can go the distance,_

_Till I find my hero's welcome,_

_Waiting in your arms._

_I will search the world,_

_I will face its harms,_

_Till I find my hero's welcome,_

_Waiting in your arms.”_

"See, if they insist on having _Victors Songs_ each year that's the kind of thing they should come up with," Marvel announced almost immediately after he’d finished singing. "You're really good, you know that?" 

"So I've been told," Adya responded modestly, his heightened hearing picking up sounds from inside the tent he and Cato shared once more. "Cato?"

He received a combination of a grunt and a whimper in response. 

“Sam?”

Gentle hands helped him back inside the tent before disappearing, the younger boy backing out quickly and leaving him alone with his boyfriend.

“Cato?”

“…did I do that?” Cato’s soft voice was filled with so much pain, both the physical and the emotional kind. “I remember…I remember attacking you and…and trying to force you…trying to…did I…?”

"No," Adya answered quickly. "Well, yes, technically you did attack me but you were hallucinating and...and...Sam stopped you before...before..."

"I tried to rape you."

Adya couldn't deny the other boys horrified statement. 

A loud whimper warned him that something was about to happen so he was prepared for it when Cato pushed past him, dropping to his knees just outside the tent and losing the contents of his stomach with a painful sounding heave. 

"Cato?" 

A muffled sob was his only answer. 

Stumbling forwards he ignored the fact that Sam and Marvel were only a few feet away from them, ignored the multitude of cameras that were undoubtedly trained on them at that moment and knelt beside the older boy, slipping his arms around him and holding on tight as Cato tried to resist, tried to pull away from him with a series of muffled protests.

"No...I hurt you...I would have..."

"It wasn't you, not really," Adya murmured, pulling Cato's face down until it was pressed into the side of his neck. "It was the tracker jacket venom..."

He could feel Cato's tears and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. 

"I'm a monster...I'm a monster..." Cato whimpered, shaking his head as he continued to try and free himself from Adya's firm but gentle hold. "I could have..."

"It was the venom," Adya repeated, firmly believing what he was saying now that he was confronted with Cato's natural reaction to the possibility of what could have happened. "It was the tracker jacket venom. It makes you see things...do things...it wasn't really you..." 

Cupping Cato's strong jaw he brought the distraught boys face up to his so that he could press a series of soft kisses against his lips, intermingled with reassurances and promises.

He didn't care what the people watching them thought. 

He didn't care how the people in the Capitol would react to their relationship.

All he cared about in that instant. 

"It wasn't your fault," he repeated when the Career had finally calmed down and knelt silently within his comforting embrace. "It wasn't you, Cato. It wasn't you."

Cato let out a shaking breath, pulling away gently and this time Adya let him.

A hand cupped his jaw, a thumb stroking the smooth skin of his cheek.

"I'm sorry..." Cato murmured. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, Adya..."

Adya smiled.

"I'm ok. I promise..."

They stayed linked together that way for a long moment before Marvel finally cleared his throat, the sudden noise startling both of them into breaking apart. 

"That tracker jacket venoms a bitch, isn't it?" the other Career asked, his bright tone obviously forced. "You wouldn't believe the things I saw..."

"Oh, I think I would," Cato murmured, taking Adya's hand in his and leading him towards the fire pit, guiding him to sit down on the grass close to Cato's side. "I remember...I remember everything that happened with you, Adya, but it was like we were other people. Like we weren't real. My hands were made of knives and I cut open your belly as I...as I..."

Cato shuddered, his breath hitching once more. 

"I saw pink elephants," Marvel announced. "You know, like in that old vid they used to play when we were kids? Only the ones I saw were...were monsters...like they were muttations...and the Arena was on fire only the fire was blue and green and purple..."

"Fire..." Cato repeated, his voice harder than before. "That _Burning Bitch_...she's responsible for everything that happened. If she hadn't dropped that nest on us then I wouldn't have tried to...I wouldn’t have…"

He broke of sharply.

Marvel grunted in agreement.

"I'll fucking kill her."

So that's what had happened.

Katniss Everdeen had dropped a nest of Tracker Jackers on the Careers.

In any other games Adya would have considered it a brilliantly clever move...

But not this year.

Not when the person she'd dropped the best on had been his boyfriend. 

"Maybe she got stung too," Sam suggested somewhat nervously. "It stands to reason that if the rest of you got stung she would too..."

Cato grunted. 

"I hope she got stung," he growled, kicking at the remnants of the fire with his boot. "She dropped it on us when we were sleeping, before we had a chance to defend ourselves. It was the act of a coward."

"How did she get above you without one of you waking?" 

"She didn’t. We managed to her trapped up there the night before,” Marvel answered his question, scoffing loudly. "Should've tried harder to kill her but _Lover Boy_ said we should just wait her out. Idiot."

"Where is Peeta?" 

Cato stiffened beside him.

"He was helping the _Burning Bitch_ escape," he answered sharply, his voice muffled as though he were speaking through tightly clenched teeth. "I was just starting to see...things...when I saw him helping her. She had the bow. She must have taken it from _Fish Girl's_ body."

"Poor Lillibet..." Adya sighed sadly. "No one deserves to die that way..."

"Did you get him?" Marvel demanded. 

“He’s not dead,” Sam announced quickly, shifting nervously beside Adya, his fingers ripping up chunks of grass. “I mean…we only heard one cannon and that was the one for Lillibet…er… _Fish Girl_.”

"He's not dead yet," Cato corrected the younger boy. "He won't last long, not with the thigh wound I gave him. Not unless he earns outside help."

Adya sighed sadly.

He liked Peeta. 

He seemed like a gentle soul. 

And yet he knew, realistically, for any of them to survive then that gentle soul had to be extinguished along with the rest.

He only wished his death could have been quick and relatively painless.

"Where's Clove?" 

"She's still unconscious," Sam answered Cato’s soft question. "Because of her size the venom was able to knock her out a lot easier than it did the two of you so it stands to reason that it’ll take longer for her to recover.”

In the end Clove didn’t wake until long after the sun had disappeared from the sky, the small group gathering around the fire for warmth as they feasted on some “boil-in-the-bag” meals they had found among the supplies.

“Cato?”

Clove’s voice was even sharper than usual, layered with obvious tones of distress as she stumbled out of her tent, her footsteps heavier than usual.

“C-Cato? W-What happened?”

Cato’s initial response was to tighten his arms about Adya’s waist, pulling him out of his own seat and across to sit in the older boys lap.

Only then did he respond to his district partner’s voice,

“Tracker Jackers.”

Clove dropped down into Adya’s recently vacated seat.

“I saw…”

“We all saw things,” Cato interrupted her, resting his cheek against the back of Adya’s shoulder. “Adya and Sam looked after us.”

“They did?”

He could practically feel the look she was giving him and Cato’s voice, when he responded to her question, was tense and his words clipped short,

“Yes, they did.”

Clove scoffed.

“But…why would they help us?”

“I asked exactly the same thing when I woke up!” Marvel chuckled loudly, throwing another log onto the fire. “Seemed a bit stupid to me, passing up a perfectly good opportunity to get rid of us.”

“And as we told Marvel earlier we helped you because, enemy or not, it was the right thing to do,” Adya repeated his earlier statement, turning his sightless eyes towards the only female member of their group. “Not all of us are Careers, after all.”

Clove said nothing.

“Here, Clove, have something to eat,” Marvel eventually broke the silence which had followed their brief conversation, all but throwing one of the “boil-in-the-bag” meals across to her. “Try that one. Macaroni Cheese. It’s not too bad. It’s better than the, what was this one…oh…sweet and sour chicken…”

Adya frowned.

He’d tried that one earlier and he hadn’t thought it was that bad…but then again he was used to eating scraps and leftovers, things that he been dropped on the ground or had long since gone off.

Wriggling slightly to get more comfortable where he was perched on his boyfriends lap and laid his head down on Cato’s shoulder, content to listen to the conversation going on between Marvel and Clove rather than try to participate.

“Comfortable?”

“Yeah…”

Closing his eyes he allowed his body to go limp, trusting his boyfriend to support him and smiling to himself when he felt Cato begin gently running his hands up and down the length of his back.

He sighed softly, arching into the gentle touch as he shivered lightly, his body reacting to the gentle touch with a series of pleasant tingles running right from his scalp to the tip of his toes.

"Tired?" Cato murmured softly in his ear. 

Adya nodded, pressing his face against the smooth skin of Cato's neck. 

He was tired.

The last couple of days were finally starting to catch up with him now that Cato and the others were awake and had been returned to their normal selves.

If he was being honest he was even relieved to have Clove back in her right mind, the pathetic whimpers she’d been letting out in her sleep having freaked out both himself and Sam even more than her prowess with throwing knives.

"Want to head to bed?" 

"If you don't mind..." 

"Not at all," Cato responded softly, his breath tickling the back of Adya's neck, causing him to shudder. "I'll admit I've got a bit of an ulterior motive..."

"Oh?"

Cato nuzzled his face against Adya's neck before moving his lips up to brush against the soft skin of his ear as he spoke softly but clearly but softly,

"I want to spend some time alone with you."

Adya smile could only be described as blinding.

"I want to thank you for taking care of us."

A kiss was placed to the incredibly sensitive skin behind his ear.

He gasped.

"I want to apologise for how I treated you whilst I was hallucinating."

Adya groaned, actually full on groaned, when he felt the older boys teeth nipping gently at the soft shell of his ear.

“C-Cato…”

"I want to prove to you that I'm myself again."

He couldn't speak.

He could barely think. 

Never had he been so...so tortured by feelings of pleasure and...

And love...

“So...bed?"

"Y-Yeah..."

Adya's legs felt incredibly unsteady as he slowly managed to climb off of his boyfriends lap, keeping close to his side in an effort to Cato in an attempt to hide the physical response he’d had to the gentle touches.

"We're going to bed," Cato announced to the rest of the group, slipping his arm around Adya's waist and holding him close. "Marvel, you've got first watch."

"Ok."

"I'll take the middle watch. Clove, you'll take the morning watch."

Clove grumbled softly in protest at getting the longest of the three watches. 

" _Sparky?_ "

"Y-Yes, Cato?" 

Sam sounded nervous.

"You get the night off as a thank you for taking care of us."

"O-Oh..." Sam mumbled, obviously surprised. "Thank you."

Cato grunted in response.

There was no way they didn't know what was going to happen between the two of them once they were inside the privacy of their own tent, not with the way Marvel was chuckling under his breath or the way Clove was grinding her teeth.

Sam's response was mercifully silent.

As Cato lifted the tent flap out of his way Adya could sworn he heard the whirring sound of a camera lens focusing somewhere inside their tent but banished that thought from his mind.

It was probably his hearing playing tricks on him.

How would they have gotten a camera inside their tent? 

It never crossed his mind to wonder if the cameras had already been placed inside the tent before the Games had even begun, built into the numerous tent poles just waiting to be activated by the people in the control room back in the Capitol.

If he had he would never have had the courage to throw himself at Cato once the older boy had zipped the tent flap shut, throwing his arms around him and desperately searching out the other boys soft lips with his own, pressing a demanding kiss to them when they finally made contact. 

"Adya..." Cato breathed against his lips, pressing their bodies together as they knelt in the middle of the tent. "Adya, I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."

Adya hushed him, pressing a series of softer kisses to his lips.

"It wasn't you, Cato. It wasn't you," he murmured, reaching out to trace the contours of his boyfriends face with his fingers. "This is you. This is the real you."

"I couldn't keep you safe, not even from me..."

He felt the moment that the older boy’s tears spilled out onto his cheeks.

"Cato, am I still alive?" He asked softly, stroking the tears away.

"Yes..."

"You did that. You kept me alive."

And Una, of course, but Cato needed all the reassurance he could get right now so with a mental apology to his deceased friend Adya pressed on. 

"I should be dead. I should be long dead. And yet here I am, with you." 

Cato let out a shuddering breath against Adya's lips. 

"I trust you, Cato..."

The kiss that followed his soft reassurance was unlike any that he’d ever experienced before, filled with a raw feeling of desperation and passion, the force behind it knocking him backwards until they landed on the ground with Cato pressed down on top of Adya’s willing body.

For a moment he could forget where they were.

He could forget what was going on in the world around them.

All that mattered were the strong hands pulling gently but firmly at his clothes, methodically stripping them from his lithe body while his mouth continued to be assaulted by a very talented tongue.

His own hands moved on instinct, copying his boyfriend’s actions and working to remove the older boys clothes from him own much more impressive body, taking the time to trail his fingers over the impressive muscles covered with smooth skin. 

Cato hesitated when they reached the point where both of them were dressed only in their tight underpants and thick socks.

"Adya?"

"Cato?"

"Do you trust me?" 

Adya didn't even hesitate.

"Yes. With my life. And, more importantly, with my heart."

Cato sucked in a sharp breath. 

"If things were different I wouldn't be doing this, not like this I mean," he mumbled as he hooked his thumbs into the waist band of Adya's underpants. "I would have taken my time to get to know every little thing about you. I'd have taken you out to dinner at a fancy restaurant or...or for a walk on the beach or...or something like that. A date. I'd have taken you out on a proper date."

Adya smiled fondly up at Cato as he felt his underwear moving slowly down his legs, leaving him in nothing but his socks on the rather chilly groundsheet covering the floor inside the tent.

"I would have taken things slowly, so slowly," Cato continued, leaning back until he could look down at Adya's naked body, taking in every detail. "I'd have taken the time to relish every moment with you."

"Then let's do that," Adya murmured, his cheeks flushing as his body was put on display for the first time in his life...not including when he was stripped in the Remake Centre. That didn't count. "Let's take what time with have together and relish each and every moment." 

Cato sighed happily. 

"I love you."

Adya beamed up at him. 

"I love you too...but I think it's very unfair that I'm all on show like this whilst you’re still wearing your underpants," he responded teasingly, reaching out to trail a hand down the smooth planes of the other boy’s chest until he reached the elasticised waistband. "Very unfair indeed."

"What are you going to do about that then?"

Deciding not respond verbally Adya leaned up suddenly, taking his boyfriend completely by surprise as he removed the offending article of clothing without ceremony or show. 

"There, that's better," he concluded with more confidence than he felt as he replaced his hand on his boyfriends stomach, the tips of his fingers encountering the expected patch of hair which he knew would lead down to his... "I take it the Capitol let you keep your hair down there too..." 

"Kind of them, wasn't it?" Cato responded somewhat breathlessly, his body trembling under Adya’s gentle touch. "They weren't so kind about the rest of my body hair. I haven't been this smooth since I was a baby."

"Oh, I don't know..." Adya murmured, stroking his hand up over the smooth planes of Cato’s chest, his fingertips now brushing his nipples. "I quite like it..." 

"Adya..." Cato groaned deeply. "I need you..."

It certainly sounded like it, Adya mused silently as he fought against the stab of nervousness he felt at his boyfriends words.

Perhaps now would be a good time to mention…

"I've never..."

He could feel his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"I mean…I mean I haven't..."

A gentle kiss was pressed to his lips. 

"Do you trust me?" Cato repeated his earlier question. 

Adya smiled.

"You know I do."

"I know you trust me with your life," Cato countered softy, his hands trailing up and down Adya's sides in a rather distracting manner. "And your heart. But do you trust me with your body?"

Yes...

He arched his back under his boyfriend’s confident touch. 

After all he'd already experienced what sort of pleasure those talented hands could bring to his body.

Yes...

And now he found himself wondering what else they could do to him…

Show him…

Teach him...

Yes...

"Adya? As lovely as you look right now I kind of need a…um…a verbal answer before I can continue?"

Cato's voice was light, teasing but it also held an unmistakable edge of nerves as though he were expecting Adya to stop him, to turn him down, perhaps even to run screaming from the tent.

That Adya would not do.

"Yes, Cato. Yes."

Cato let out an almost guttural sound of relief. 

"Adya? Can I make love to you? Please?" 

He smiled.

_Make Love._

That sounded so much nicer than _fucking_ which was how he'd heard the act referred to for most of his life.

He didn't want Cato to fuck him.

He wanted Cato to make love to him.

"Yes..."

 

A/N I'm afraid the rest of their night together will have to be left to your imaginations. I know, I'm a horrible, cruel writer but I tried and I couldn't do it justice and so leaving it up to everyone to fill in the blanks it is. Only three more chapters to go but don't worry, despite my best attempts this story has spawned a sequel in my mind which I have already begun planning out. Comments and suggestions are as welcome as always. X  


	19. The Arena, Day Seven

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Hunger Games or any of its characters. The many OC’s, however, are mine. :-)

Summary: Adya knew the moment his name was picked out of the bowl that he would not be coming back from the 74th Hunger Games…

**WARNINGS: SLASH! (M/M) VIOLENCE! ANGST! CHARACTER DEATH!**

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** No One Knows Who I Am **

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** The Arena, Day Seven **

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            Walking slowly away from the camp, careful to go in the opposite direction of the mines he’d helped to bury in the ground, Adya picked a spot at random and stopped, turning back to face the direction he had come from.

            “Here?”

            “Yeah, I can still see you so that’s fine,” Sam responded from where he was sat in the middle of the camp tinkering with…something. “Just keep an ear out.”

            “Will do,” Adya responded with a smile, dropping down onto his bottom as his fingers started working at the laces of his boots, pulling almost frantically at them until they finally gave was and he was finally able to remove his footwear for the first time since he’d entered the Arena.

            The next thing to go were his socks.

            An almost obscene moan escaped his lips when the lusciously soft grass, warmed by the rays of the sun, finally came into contact with his bare feet.

            Oh.

            That was wonderful…

            Wiggling his toes he moaned once more as the tips of some of the blades of grass slipped between his toes, tickling the soft skin they found there.

            Tucking his socks into his boots so that he’d be able to find them easily later on he placed them out of the way before stretching out on his back, wriggling his body for a moment until he settled into a comfortable position.

            His arms automatically stretched out on either side of him, his fingers spreading to allow the skin of his hands to enjoy the grass beneath him every bit as much as his feet were now enjoying the new feeling.

            District Eight, after all, only had a couple of patches of grass and that had always been dry and crispy whenever he’d walked across it, scratching rather than caressing as the warmth beneath him now did.

            He let out a deep sigh.

            This was just what he needed after the events of the last few days, time to relax and forget about the danger of his surroundings.

            To forget about the fact that his death could come at any moment.

            “Adya?”

            He smiled to himself, allowing his sightless eyes to flutter closed as he tilted his face towards the warmth of the sun beating down upon him.

            “Yes, Sam?”

            There was a long pause before his friend finally answered apologetically,

            “...never mind…”

            Adya chuckled.

            Shaking his head he went to settle back down onto the grass and had to pause, continuing to rub his head back and forth when he discovered that the tickling sensation was even more intense when it was on the back of his neck and skull, moving the strands of hair aside to tickle his scalp.

            He couldn’t help but groan loudly as a shiver ran down his spine.

            That.

            Felt.

            Amazing.

            He and Adya were alone at the campsite once more which was why he had been able to take up this opportunity to treat himself, neither of them having anything pressing or life threatening to do for the moment.

            Cato, Marvel and Clove had woken in their right minds that morning, no longer suffering any aftereffects from their numerous Tracker-Jacker stings, and so had left shortly after their breakfast of toasted bread on their latest hunt searching the Arena for the _Burning Bitch_ and her traitorous _Lover Boy._

            A twig snapped somewhere behind his head.

            He froze, his body tensing.

            His hands accidently ripped up handfuls of grass as they clenched beside him.

            Someone was out there.

            Another twig snapped.

            “Sam?”

            “Uh-Huh?”

            Another twig snapped but this time it sounded further away.

            Sitting up slowly Adya tilted his head as he listened out for anything else that could help him identify the sounds he was hearing from the surrounding woods.

            Something thudded against the ground.

            A female voice grunted in pain.

            Both of these distinct sounds came from even further away than anything he’d previously heard indicating that, much to his surprise, whoever had been approaching him only moments before was now leaving.

            Quickly.

            “…never mind…”

            Releasing the clumps of dirt and grass from his hands he rubbed them clean on his trousers and wondered just echo it was that had tried sneaking up on him only to be frightened away by something, what he didn't know. 

            He doubted very much that it had been Katniss Everdeen, the girl who Cato and his friends were obsessed with hunting down, as she wouldn't have been spooked into running away. 

            Come to that she wouldn't have had to try and get so close as to be noticed, not with her supposed skills with a bow.

            She could have turned him into a porcupine, a dead porcupine, before he'd even realised what was happening.

            So not Katniss.

            Which other female Tributes were left?

            Clove was off with Cato and marvel and definitely wouldn't have tried to sneak up on him if she finally decided to act on her promise to kill him. 

            He'd only known her a few days but he could already tell that she wasn't one for the subtle approach when she could walk right up to someone's face and stab one of her deadly little knives into their eye socket. 

            So not Clove either. 

            Absentmindedly plucking single strands of grass out of the ground with his fingers Adya tried running through the districts to figure out which other Tributes were left in this late stage of the Games, trying to place names he'd been told with voices he'd heard and kills he'd been told about by the various Careers. 

            Marvel was still alive and hunting from One but Adya had killed Glimmer himself so it definitely hadn't been her that he'd heard in the woods. 

            Both Cato and Clove were still very much alive. 

            Sam had said that his district partner, Terra, had fallen pretty quickly during the initial bloodbath as she had still been nursing an injury sustained during training a couple of days before, killed by the male Tribute from Five shortly before he in turn had been killed by the boy from Eleven. 

            Adya was ashamed to realise that he honestly couldn't remember either of the boys names despite having heard them multiple times over the last few days. 

            A feeling of sadness washed over him as he recalled kindhearted Lillibet and the horrible death she'd suffered only a couple of days ago and wondered if it would have been kinder for her to be killed quickly and cleanly during the Cornucopia bloodbath like her district partner, Rhys. 

            Mentally coming to District Five he realised that, not only were both of their names escaping him completely, he couldn't remember hearing a single thing about the female Tribute since her tediously serious interview the night before the Games. 

            Perhaps she was the one who had tried to sneak up on him? 

            Could she really have survived on her own all this time? 

            She wasn't a fighter and he doubted that she was much of a hunter. 

            He remembered her answer when Caesar had pressed her about her tactics for the Games, remember how she'd explained that she would apply her logic to find a solution to any problem which stood in her way. 

            _“I will always analyse the situation and apply myself appropriately.”_

            Glimmer had apparently boasted for almost a full hour about how Melinda from District Six had been her first kill of the Games, recounting the way they'd fought over a bag of supplies just long enough for Glimmer to get hold of a knife and, in her own words, “gut the stupid girl.”

            It was because of her bloodthirsty attitude, hidden behind her flirtatious giggles and the cunningly planned “innocent girl next door” behaviour that allowed Adya to feel no guilt whatsoever for being the one to end her life. 

            Asa, Melinda's district partner, had clashed with Cato from the very beginning of the training, always seeming to be in the wrong place at the wrong time in regards to the leader of the Career pack and so Adya hadn't been surprised to learn that it had been his boyfriend who had been the one to take him out of the Games. 

            “He put up a good fight though,” Cato had admitted when they'd been discussing their kills. “I thought I'd killed him first off but you saw him going after the boy from Ten didn't you, Clove? Between then and when I actually did get him.”

            “And the boy from Five,” Clove had responded whilst sharpening her throwing knives with a series of quick repetitive movements. “And then he tried to go after Glimmer with a sword he could barely use, the idiot.”

            “Yeah, but at least he tried to fight unlike most of the others including the girl from his District,” Cato had pointed out. “That's something his District can be proud of at least, that they finally managed to produce a fighter for once and not a cowardly little morphling addict like their past Victors.”

            Adya had no idea who had killed soft spoken Beau during the bloodbath, he only knew that the boys from District Seven whose lilting voice had peaked his interest more than once during training hadn't survived past the first few minutes. 

            Of course he wouldn't have known even that had it not been for Sam who had been forced by the Careers to drag the dead bodies away from the Cornucopia so that they could be collected whilst they set up camp undisturbed. 

            Marvel had proudly boasted of how he’d killed Beau’s district partner by driving his spear so far into her delicate chest that he had to literally stand on her body to be able to remove it once the deed was done.

            What had been her name?

            Anna? 

            Annie?

            No, something like that but not quite...

            Adya hoped that, unlike him, their audience wasn't having such trouble remembering each of the fallen Tributes names as each and every one of them deserved to be remembered. 

            Una...

            Adya didn't even want to think about his dear friend who had lost her life so shortly after saving him from certain death in the initial bloodbath but least he could content himself with the fact that her death had been avenged. 

            Clove had cursed Viggo, the young boy from Nine for getting in her way during the bloodbath and taking the knife she'd thrown at Katniss Everdeen's face. 

            Marvel had joked that the people from District Nine must have been trained to get in the way as he'd been aiming for Peeta when he killed the girl from Nine who had literally walked into the path of his already airborne spear. 

            Her name had been long, he could remember that, but he couldn't think of her actual name...or even remember what her voice had been like. All he could remember about her was a single comment from Una about the fact that, were the other girls hair curly, they could have been sisters they looked so alike. 

            Carrie from District a Ten he remembered very clearly. 

            She'd spent every single day during the training crying softly to herself in the corner of the room and only participating when the tasks were a compulsory requirement, already having given up and hope of surviving the Games despite having a significantly better chance that some others. 

            Unfortunately for the broken hearted tribute it had been Glimmer who she'd come up against during the bloodbath and the Career had, apparently, ensured that he death had been anything but quick and painless.

            According to Sam the poor girl had been left to sob pitifully as she slowly bled to death and had still been alive when they'd ordered him to drag her body away. 

            Bruno had been the complete opposite of his district partner, throwing himself into everything and actually doing quite well if Adya remembered correctly, despite the fact that one of his legs was apparently malformed leaving him with a very noticeable limp. 

            He was still alive but no one had seen him, _Hop Along_ as Cato had dubbed him, since the Cornucopia but it hadn't been him in the woods.

            The voice Adya had heard grunting in pain had definitely been female. 

            “ _Titch_...” he murmured softly to himself as he reached the Tributes of District Eleven in his mind and realised that it could have been the elusive little girl who had been trying to approach the camp from the woods surrounding them.

            She'd managed to avoid everyone until now and it would explain why she'd gotten spooked and run for it as she was certainly too small to defend herself.

            What was her real name?

            Rae?

            Ruth?

            “Rue...” he sighed when he remembered her name correctly, pleased that he hadn't forgotten another one. “I wonder if it was you, little one...”

            If it was it was probably hunger that had drawn her towards the camp, the mountain of supplies acting as a beacon of hope towards a painfully empty stomach. 

            Thresh, her monster of a district partner, was still at large but it definitely hadn't been the giant boy that he'd heard in the woods. 

            And Peeta, well Peeta was still alive but given how Cato was sure he'd wounded him badly during his hallucinations there was no telling how much longer he would survive out there in the Arena.

            Alone.

            Adya sighed. 

            It was definitely a mercy to have a quick death.

            He hated the thought of lingering, of lying there in agony, waiting for help that would never come.

            He hoped, when his time came, that it was quick. 

            Adya remained lying in the sun for the rest of the day, listening out for any sounds of the other Tribute returning to the Cornucopia but they never did. 

            All he heard was Sam muttering to himself as he tinkered away with something metallic over at the campsite, his hands constructing then deconstructing then reconstructing over and over again.

            They had a small lunch of what Sam described as "corned beef hash" curtesy of a “ready-made meal” pack he'd found whilst raiding the supplies which only required for you to place it a bowl of boiling water still sealed up for it to cook. 

            It had been oddly delicious. 

            After that Adya had managed to convince Sam to join him in “enjoying the sunshine while we still can” for a little while and it was there, both of them lying spread out on the ground, bare hands and feet still playing absentmindedly with the grass, that the Careers found them. 

            “Um...what are you doing?” Marvel asked, obviously frowning down at the pair of them as the Careers came to a halt a few paces away from them. “Shouldn't you be guarding the camp? You know, like you're surprised to be doing?”

            “I heard the three of you approaching five minutes ago,” Adya responded. “You talk really loudly, by the way, so we knew who was coming. I've been listening out all day and haven't heard anything but the birds and the wind in the trees.”

            He'd decided not to mention their almost visitor from earlier. 

            He had a feeling that the blame would fall on Sam for not keeping a better look out, allowing someone else to get so close and that just wouldn't do. 

            “Oh...”

            “And as for what we're doing we are enjoying the sunshine,” Adya answered the larger boys initial question blithely. “You should join us. Take your boots off. The warm grass feels absolutely wonderful between your toes.”

            And, much to his everlasting surprise, that was exactly what they did although they each took it in turns to go barefoot so that at least one of them was ready to defend their camp should any of the other Tributes be stupid enough to come near them….again.

            “So…” Adya sighed after a little while, “What shall we talk about?”

            “Nothing.”

             The sharp answer had, of course, come from Clove who was standing off to one side throwing her knives into homemade targets on the ground in front of her, it being her turn to stand guard.

            “What do you want to talk about?” Cato responded, something in his voice giving away the fact that he was glaring in the female Careers direction.

            “Well I think I can safely say that me and Sam are very familiar with each other having had nothing else to talk about while you lot have been off…doing stuff…so how about you tell us a bit about yourselves?” he suggested, turning his face towards each Career in turn.

            Surprisingly it was Marvel, with his deep voice and heavy breathing, who answered, “What would you like to know?”

            “Anything. What about your families?” Adya suggested. “I'm an orphan. Lost my parents to the fire that stole my sight. Sam is one of nine, wasn't it?”

            “Six brothers and two sisters,” the younger boy confirmed. “Although we lost Charlie, my eldest brother, during the 65th Hunger Games. He did well but…”

            “Finnick Odair,” Marvel finished for him, sounding rather annoyed about something even as Sam murmured softly in agreement with his conclusion. “It wasn't a fair fight that year. They'd already picked him to win before the Games had even begun. It wasn’t in the spirit of the Games.”

            “So what about you?” Adya asked, bringing them back to his original suggestion as he took Cato's hand in his own, linking their fingers together. “Tell us a bit about your family back in District One.”

            “I come from a long line of winemakers,” Marvel began softly, his tone of voice very different to how it had been just a moment ago, a mixture of wistfulness and pride taking over from the bitterness and annoyance. “The family vineyard has been supplying the Capitol for as long as the Hunger a Games have been running.”

            Huh.

            “That is not what I was expecting…”

            Marvel chuckled.

            “I know but it's the truth,” he reassured them, this time sounding a little bit sad. “Problem is you have to be quite smart to run a successful vineyard and, well, I'm pretty you can guess that I've never been one of the smartest people out there.”

            And there was that bitterness again.

            “I'm the oldest of two boys but my younger brother, Paragon, has always been the smart one, the one my dad has been grooming take over as head of the business someday,” Marvel continued with his explanation and Adya could hear that even Clove had stopped practising to listen in. “So I needed to find some other way to make him proud of me.”

            Adya winced.

            That sounded awful.

            From the sounds of things Marvel had been neglected and bullied into volunteering for a fight to the death just so that his father would notice him standing in the shadow of his younger brother.

            “So I trained in secret, built up my skill and my strength and here I am,” Marvel concluded simply, tapping his spear which he had kept close to him this entire time on the ground. "At least in here being strong counts for something..."

            “What about your mum?” Sam asked softly. “What does she think about you volunteering to enter the Games?”

            Marvel scoffed.

            Wow.

            That was pure and utter bitterness.

            “My mum spends her days testing wine, entertaining businessmen and watching Capitol Couture TV,” he responded, his voice tight. “I think this might be the first time she’s even noticed I exist in years and that's only because I'm on TV.”

            “And your brother?”

            “Paragon,” Marvel sighed. “You know, I've wanted to hate him for years. I should hate him. He is the perfect son in both our parents’ eyes. Intelligent. Focused. Dedicated to the business. Everything I'm not. So I really should hate him…”

            “But you don't…”

            “No. I don't. I can't. Because–”

            “He's your brother,” Clove interrupted him, her voice unfamiliarly tight with emotion. Marvel sighed but said nothing more, leaving Adya to guess that he'd nodded in response to her simple statement. “I've got a brother.”

            “Older or younger?” Adya asked.

            “Younger, but only by ten minutes,” Clove answered with a soft chuckle, a strange sound coming from the deadly Career but one that seemed to suit her voice. “Much to his everlasting annoyance I came out of our mother first when we were born. He used to say first is the worst when we were younger but he stopped when we started training for the Hunger a Games.”

            “You have a twin?” Sam gasped in surprise.

            “Yeah,” Clove responded, throwing a knife at a target, no doubt hitting it with her usual deadly precision. “He tried to volunteer this year but Cato was quicker.”             “You wanted to be in here together?” Adya asked with a frown.

            “Yes, we did. But we weren't ready last year and this year is our last year,” she answered simply, her voice tinged with sadness. “So it was together or not at all. We never expected that…that one of us would get in and the other one wouldn't. Never even crossed our minds.”

            “I thought you were fifteen?” Cato asked in genuine surprise.

            “No, I'm seventeen, same as you,” Clove huffed loudly. “One of the Capitol reporters got it wrong after the Reaping Ceremony and nothing I said would convince them that I was actually seventeen.”

            “Well you are rather small…”

            Clove literally growled her response,

            “Compact.”

            Adya decided it was time to change the subject before his friend ended up with a knife sticking out of his body should he continue to press the current subject.

            “What's his name? Your brother?”

            “Oh, um, Cassander. His name is Cassander.”

              Adya blinked.

            "...does everyone in your District have to have a name beginning with the letter 'C' or is it just some sort of strange coincidence?" he finally blurted out, earning a collection of chuckles from the tributes gathered around him. “Seriously. Cato. Clove. Cassander. Is there…is there a rule about what letter you can use to name your child each year or something?”

            “No, it's honestly just a coincidence,” Cato reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. “I've got an older brother called Tiberius and a younger sister called Ilythia.”

            “Actually that's not quite true in my case,” Clove admitted, almost sounding sheepish. “Yeah, it's a coincidence that your name begins with a ‘C’ as well but in our family it makes perfect sense.”

            “Huh?”

            “My mum has always wanted to name her children in alphabetical order,” Clove continued with her explanation. “So I've got two older sisters called Andromache and Briseis and a younger sister called Demeter. When she found out that she was expecting twins she decided to give us both names beginning with ‘C’ because at the time she hadn't found a name beginning with ‘D’ that she liked.”

            “Andromache…Briseis… _Clove_ …Cassander and Demeter…” Adya repeated softly, struggling to pronounce her older sisters unusual names as a perplexing thought crossed his mind. “No offence but your name seems a little out of place…”

            Clove didn't answer.

            “Clove?” Cato called out, barely containing a chuckle. “Are you blushing?”

            “No!”

            “You so are!” Marvel joined in with a deep throaty laugh.

            “I can hardly believe my eyes,” Cato chuckled deeply. “One of the deadliest tributes currently competing in the 74th Hunger Games blushing like a little school girl. What is it? What don't you want us to know about your name?”

            Clove huffed loudly, still not answering, but it was Sam who figured out.

            “It's not your real name, is it?” he asked. “It's a nickname or something.”

            Clove literally hissed across at him.

            “It's not a nickname,” she snapped, huffing loudly as she threw the remainder of her knives in quick succession at her remaining targets. “It's…it's an adaption of the stupid girly name my mother gave me.”

            “Which is…?” Cato requested with another bright laugh.

            Clove’s response was so quiet even Adya struggled to pick out what she said.

            “What?” the others chorused, their shared confusion almost as funny as her obvious embarrassment/dislike of her admittedly girly name.

            “It's Calliope, all right?” she snapped at them, working quickly to retrieve her knives, wiping the dirt off of them onto her trousers legs. “But I prefer Clove. My mother had it in her head that we'd all grow up to be delicate little wives of successful men like she did but that was not what I wanted at all.”

            The laughter which followed her statement was so infectious that Adya heard her chuckle softly to herself before beginning her knife throwing once more.

            “Who taught you to throw knives?” Adya found himself out of the blue.

            “When my parents finally realised how serious we were about competing in the Hunger Games they got us involved in the same program Cato was on. We trained every day with the various Victors from our District as well as joining the Peacekeeper trainees for a lot of their lessons, especially the physical fitness stuff,” she explained simply. “Anyone who didn't make it into the Games before their eighteenth birthday would be taken on as a Peacekeeper instead.”

            “That's a clever way of getting around the rules regarding no official training for the Hunger Games being permitted,” Sam murmured softly. “Technically it would fall under Peacekeeper Training as they join the force afterwards.”

            “It’s a system that works,” Cato responded with a shrug, reaching out to run his fingers through Adya's hair matted hair, the dirt and grime of the last few days a familiar feeling. “District Two has the most Victors of all the Districts, after all.”

            Adya smiled to himself, enjoying the combined feeling of Cato’s fingers running through his hair and the blades of grass which continued to tickle his feet.

            “You falling asleep on me?” his boyfriend murmured softly as Adya shifted his body around until he could use his boyfriend’s stomach as a pillow wondering to himself why he hadn’t thought of moving into this far more comfortable position earlier, the older boy resuming his petting once he'd settled in place.

            “Yup,” Adya sighed in response to his question. “Got a problem with that?”

            Cato chuckled, the movements of his stomach bouncing Adya's head up and down in a strange but not entirely unpleasant manner.

            “No. I'll wake you when we need to move,” Cato eventually responded.

            “Thanks.”

            He drifted off a few moments later, smiling as he listened to Marvel telling them all about some extravagant prank he had pulled on his younger brother in honour of his birthday involving a tin of water resistant paint balanced on top of their bedroom door and the family pet, a cat called Twinkle.

            “Twinkle?!”

            “Hey! Leave Twinkle alone. He's a beast.”

            And so his final thoughts were of Twinkle, the beast, before sleep claimed him and dragged his conscious mind down into the peaceful realm of dreams.

A/N I don't know how but I made myself feel sorry for Marvel and almost, almost for Clove! What am I doing? I keep making the Careers more and more human with each chapter I write. It's making me dread writing the next few chapters. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this rather random chapter. Comments are always welcome. Starting to wind this story up now and the last couple of chapters may require tissues…actually, no, they will require tissues. You have been warned. X

 


	20. The Arena, Day Eight

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Hunger Games or any of its characters. The many OC’s, however, are mine. :-)

Summary: Adya knew the moment his name was picked out of the bowl that he would not be coming back from the 74th Hunger Games…

**WARNINGS: SLASH! (M/M) VIOLENCE! ANGST! CHARACTER DEATH!**

****

** No One Knows Who I Am **

****

** The Arena, Day Eight **

            _“Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows,_

_Everything that's wonderful is what I feel when we're together…”_

            Adya broke off what must have been his fifteenth rendition of the annoyingly cheerful song with a frustrated growl, cursing the repetitive tune for getting well and truly stuck in his head, playing on a constant loop and driving him insane.

            “…you ok?” Sam asked hesitantly from where he was stood just outside the main part of the camp practicing with the spear he'd been left with to defend the camp whilst the Careers continued their bloodthirsty hunt. “Adya?”

            Adya sighed.

            No.

            No, he wasn't ok, actually.

            He was an orphan, completely alone in the world.

            He was blind, completely dependent on the mercy of others.

            And he was in the Hunger Games.

            Not only that but he had managed to fall in love with another Tribute in the Hunger Games and that love was destined to be broken one way or another, most likely with his heavily anticipated death.

            And now, to top it all off, he had _that song_ stuck in his head!

            Of course, he couldn’t actually say any of this to his younger friend as it would destroy whatever ever hope Sam had left, leaving behind the same void of despair that had been gradually building up in the pit of Adya's stomach.

            “I'm fine,” he answered. “I just…need to get this song out of my head. Now.”

            “You could try singing it the whole way through?” Sam suggested, pausing the jab his spear into the target he'd made and even though he couldn't see the “wound” left behind Adya could tell it wouldn't be enough if it came down to an actual fight. “I've heard that sometimes when you've got something stuck in your head that playing it through completely can help your brain let go of it whereas stopping part way through only makes it worse.”

            “…fine…”

            He was standing, his bottom completely numb after only a few minutes of sitting down earlier due to the fact that he’d been sat on it almost constantly for the last few days, and so as he began singing the sickeningly sweet song he couldn't help but dance, his body swaying and bouncing in time with the song.

            _“Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows,_

_Everything that's wonderful is what I feel when we're together._

_Brighter than a lucky penny,_

_When you're near the rain cloud just disappears, dear,_

_And I feel so fine just to know that you are mine.”_

            He paused, grimacing as he heard Sam snort under his breath as he finally heard the lyrics that had been slowly driving his friend insane for nearly an hour.

            But it wasn't over yet…

            _“My life is sunshine, lollipops and rainbows,_

_That's how this refrain goes, so come on and join in everybody!_

_Everything that's wonderful is sure to come your way,_

_When you're in love to stay.”_

            At least Cato wasn't here to hear this, Adya thought to himself as he prepared himself for the repeat taking Sam’s suggestion to heart and not skipping a single bit.

            He **needed** this song out of his head.

            Now.

            _“Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows,_

_Everything that's wonderful is what I feel when we're together._

_Brighter than a lucky penny,_

_When you're near the rain cloud just disappears, dear,_

_And I feel so fine just to know that you are mine.”_

            “…there's more?” Sam asked weakly as Adya, now literally bouncing on the spot prepared to launch into what was, thankfully, the final refrain and verse. “Ok, now I completely understand why you need to get that out of your head. That’s just…annoyingly chipper and completely inappropriate for the Hunger Games.”

            “I know, right?” Adya gasped out before tilting his head back and continuing.

_“My life is sunshine, lollipops and rainbows,_

_That's how this refrain goes, so come on and join in everybody!_

_Everything that's wonderful is sure to come your way,_

_‘Cause you’re in love!_

_You're in love!_

_And love is here to stay!”_

            Cutting off his final big note with a loud gasp he pressed the heels of his palms against his sightless eyes, silently pleading for that final rendition to have been enough and for that repetitive little song to be gone from his mind.

            “Please, oh, please, oh, please get out of my head…”

            His voice trailed away and he paused, all but holding his breath as he waited…

            And waited…

            Nothing.

            Nothing!

            It had worked!

            It had…

            And then he noticed that Sam, who had returned to his practise and was stabbing his target over and over again, was doing so in time with the worryingly familiar song that he was humming under his breath.

            Whoops…

            “Adya!” Sam gasped when he finally cottoned on to what he was doing.

            “I'm sorry!” Adya cried out, barely controlling the urge to dissolve into a fit of giggles. “But look on the bright side, it's not in my head anymore.”

            “No, it's in mine!”

            A sharp giggle escape through the hand he had pressed to his mouth.

            “I said I was sorry,” he protested, his shoulders beginning to shake with barely controlled mirth as he continued somewhat cheekily, “…you could try singing it the whole way through? I'm told that works quite well…”

            “Oh, ha ha ha…” Sam growled in response, his spear point driving home deep enough that it would probably cause another person serious harm for the first time.

            With his mind now freed from its musical trap Adya was finally able to pick up on the unusual stillness of the surrounding area; the lack of birds singing in the trees and way the breeze seemed to be dropping off.

            “Something’s about to happen…” he muttered under his breath, turning in a slow circle as he tried to listen out for anything that was truly out of the ordinary.

            A twig snapped.

            His head snapped towards the direction the noise had come from, his unseeing eyes directed into the woods and he was unsurprised to hear a loud gasp, the female voice familiar enough to identify her as their visitor from the other day.

            He was about to call out for Sam when a canon sounded loudly, startling him so much that he fell back on his behind and could do nothing but let there and listen to the sounds of their silent visitor hurrying away into the woods.

            Who was she?

            Shaking his head he let out a sigh and pulled himself onto his feet, feeling himself not to focus on her for a moment and to focus on the real question at hand.

            “Who do you think that was for?”

            Sam sighed deeply.

            “At this point in the Games, with the Tributes who are left, it could have been anybody,” the younger boy admitted sadly, giving up on his spear practise for a moment as he came to stand beside Adya. “I mean, usually it's the weakest Tributes who get picked off first but…well…”

            “I'm still breathing,” Adya chuckled mirthlessly, running his fingers through his hair. “You can say it. I am most definitely the weakest person in these Games and really shouldn't have made it this far. Not that I'm complaining, of course, who wouldn't want to live a few days longer than expected?”

            “What I mean is the way things usually work inside the Arena don’t seem to apply this year,” Sam explained softly. “Yeah, the weakest ones are still the easiest targets but they're not the only ones being targeted and they're certainly not the only ones being killed. I mean, look at Glimmer.”

            “Technically it was her own stupidity that was at fault there,” Adya pointed out, remembering the Career he had killed on the second day of the Games. “I mean, I wasn't exactly hiding my knife so she shouldn’t have gotten that close to me…”

            Huh.

            Was it really only six days ago that he'd become a killer?

            Was it really only _eight_ days ago that they'd entered the Arena?

            It felt like a lifetime...

            “We’ll just have to wait and see who that canon was for just like everyone else,” Sam sighed, dragging the blunt end of his spear across the ground. “Huh…”

            “What?”

            “Songs gone,” Sam responded simply, letting out a short laugh. “Apparently canons are also a good cure for when you've got something stuck in your head, at least when your inside the Arena anyway.”

            “Yeah, I doubt hearing a canon would help get something out of your head if you were just walking around town,” Adya chuckled just as mirthlessly as before. “Actually, no, it probably would work because if I was out in the real world and I suddenly heard a canon go off I'd be absolutely terrified that my whole life had been taking place in one giant Arena…”

            “…well thanks for that delightful mental image, Adya,” Sam muttered with an audible shudder. “Nightmares all round tonight, I think.”

            Adya sighed.

            Sam was right.

            He suspected that there would be a lot of teenagers throughout Panem who would have heard what he just said and would suffer for it, their usual nightmares about the Games having a whole new level of horror.

            Just like he was sure the two of them would.

            “Sorry…”

            Marvels booming laughter was the first thing he picked up on that warned him that the three Careers were returning to the camp, followed by three very different sets of footsteps but each one as clear as the next.

            Careers didn’t worry about stealth unless they were hunting.

            Turning on the spot he faced the direction they were coming from and felt Sam copy him, the younger boy very much aware of his superior hearing.

            “Did you see his face?” Marvel laughed loudly as the three Careers finally emerged from the trees, making their way past the Cornucopia so as to reach their campsite. “Man, that was the best thing I've seen in days!”

            Clove’s cold voice joined his in cruel laughter but Cato stayed oddly silent.

            “Who was it?” he couldn’t help but ask, his own voice taking him by surprise.

            “ _Hop Along,_ ” Cato answered softly, taking Sam’s place beside the blind teen when the younger boy moved out of the way, going to fetch a canteen of water which he handed over to Marvel without a word. “No idea who’ll get the credit for his kill, though. We chased him up a tree, like we did the _Burning Bitch_ a couple of days ago, only he had that bad leg and…well…he fell.”

            Adya grimaced.

            “Split his skull open on a tree root…” Cato murmured softly, his voice filled with disgusted wonder as well as a little bit of resignation. “It wasn't a good death…”

            Adya shuddered.

            _A good death._

            What did that even mean?

            Cato, it seemed, knew exactly what he was thinking.

            “It wasn't quick. It wasn't clean,” he explained softly as Marvel and Clove continued to laugh together like the bloodthirsty monsters they had been trained to be, discussing the way the boy’s skull had seemed to explode. “He suffered.”

            And didn't the regret in his voice show just how much he'd changed?

            Adya was pretty sure that before they had become involved Cato would have been laughing alongside his fellow Careers at the poor boys horrible death.

            And instead here he stood, regretting that it wasn't _good_.

            Slipping his hand into the older boys he gave it a gentle squeeze, discretely offering him the comfort and support he wouldn't want to be seen needing.

            “…and then he screamed like a girl all the way down! Brilliant!” Marvel finished what must have been a sickeningly joyful retelling of the boy’s death, Sam gulping under his breath as he obviously tried to control his response.

            “Hey!” Clove snapped, smacking Marvel’s arm with the back of her hand.

            “Oh, come on,” Marvel protested loudly, his voice still filled with a worrying amount of mirth. “Even you have to admit that was an incredibly feminine scream.”

            “How awful…” Sam muttered. “That's just…awful…”

            Adya had a sudden horrible realisation.

            With the way things were going the time would soon come for the Careers to “dispose of their allies” before turning on each other and that meant one thing.             Sometime soon Sam, and himself, we're going to die.

            He suffered under no illusions that it wouldn't be Clove who would finally end him given the amount of time she had already threatened to do so and could only hope that her aim would remain as true as ever and that it would be quick.

            But Sam…

            Turning suddenly he put his arms around Cato and turned his face in against his neck, pressing his lips to the Careers ear as he whispered almost frantically,

            “When…when you have to…Sam…please make sure it's a _good death_ …”

            Cato stiffened, his gaze no doubt falling on the younger boy who had just that moment left the rest of the group to begin preparing the things they would need to make their lunch without any prompting from the others.

            “He doesn't deserve to suffer…”

            Adya didn't want his young friend to die at all.

            He didn't want any of them to die.

            But this was the Hunger Games…

            “He won't.”

            Adya literally sagged against the Career in relief.

            If his friend had to die in this twisted form of entertainment at least he could now be reassured that he would die quickly and as painlessly as possible.

            He wouldn't fall screaming from a tree.

            Adya was thankful when, during their lunch of dried fruits, fresh cheese and bread delivered that morning from District 2, Cato successfully managed to steer the conversation away from the death of the poor boy from District Ten who had been physically handicapped just like Adya.

            They talked about the food.

            They talked about the weather.

            They talked about fashion.

            And just as they were about to run out of random things to talk about Marvel jumped up from his seat with an excited shout.

            “Hey! What’s that?”

            “That would be smoke, Marvel,” Clove answered simply before her voice became sickly sweet as she continued derisively. “You know, that funny cloud that’s produced when you have a fire? I’m sure even you’ve seen it before.”

            “I know what smoke is,” Marvel growled across at her, instantly on the defensive. “I just meant we should probably check it out, find the idiot that started the fire. Might manage to get a proper kill this time.”

            Adya grimaced.

            “Who do think it is?” Clove asked as the three Careers armed themselves ready for their second hunt of the day, concealing blades all over their bodies. “I can't imagine the _Burning Bitch_ being that stupid which means it's probably one of the little ones. Maybe _Titch_ or _Big Eyes_ …”

            “Or it could be deal old _Lover Boy_ ,” Marvel sneered loudly, picking up his spear and spinning it confidently in his hands. “For all your claiming to have wounded him his canon still hasn't sounded has it, Cato?”

            Cato didn’t rise to the bait although, judging by the way Marvel cleared his throat and hurried away from the camp, Adya could only assume he had responded to the challenging statement with a sharp look, probably a deadly glare.

            “I'll be back as soon as I can,” he murmured as soon as the two of them were alone, pulling Adya up from his seat and a couple of paces away from the camp before leaning down to press their lips together for all the world to see, his hands gently cupping Adya's face and holding him close.

            Not that Adya minded.

            He'd be quite happy to spend more time kissing Cato but for the Career to have a chance of winning he had to do his job, unfortunately, and make a name for himself…although entering into a same-sex relationship inside the Arena had probably already succeeded in securing both of them a place in the Games history.

            “I'll see you when I get back,” Cato murmured as he ended the kiss, keeping their faces close together as Adya brought his hands up quickly so that he could “see” the other boy for a moment, trailing his fingertips across his boyfriend’s finely sculpted face and paying special attention to his lips. “Stay safe.”

            “You too.”

            It was Adya who initiated their second kiss, his previous explorations aiding him in finding his boyfriend’s lips and capturing them in a passionate kiss.

            In fact it was only when Clove let out an impatient huff that they pulled apart.

            Pulling away from each other Adya reluctantly let his hands fall to his sides, his lower lip slipping absentmindedly between his teeth as he listened to Cato following his fellow Careers out of the clearing without saying another word.

              “You ok?”

            Adya smiled softly.

            “D’you know, you ask me that question a lot?” he chuckled, following the other boys voice back to the centre of the camp, his hands out in front of him in anticipation of finding something in his way as he always did (a storage box this time) but reassured that he wasn't anywhere near the mines.

            He could remember how many paces it would take to reach them.

            Feeling his way around the storage box he decided that it was as good a place as any to sit for a little while, not completely sure where the box was in relation to the rest of the camp other than the fact that it was still in the brilliant sunshine, a fact that made it rather appealing to him at that moment in time.

            Sam snorted softly, the only answer Adya received in regards to his counter question, and took his own seat on the other side of the Careers camp, laying his spear across his laps and rolling it up and down his thighs absentmindedly, the metal pole catching on the numerous buttons, poppers and zips which appeared to be a feature of all of their trousers.

            Apparently pockets were in fashion this year as all of them seemed to have them in abundance whilst in past years Tributes hadn’t been so lucky, the clothing they’d been given having been designed specifically based upon whatever type of Arena they had been sent into that year.

            He could remember watching the 65th Hunger Games when he was a boy, the year that Finnick Odair had won, when all of the Tributes had been dressed in various types of swimming attire ranging from “board shorts” to “bikinis” all because their Arena had been located over a series of interconnected tropical islands surrounded by crystal clear water infested with dangerous sea creatures.

            And then in the 69th Hunger Games, a year or so before he lost his sight, the Arena had been located on a foggy mountain range and the Tributes clothing had all been luminous or reflective so that the cameras could pick them out easily.

            Of course that had also meant that the other Tributes who were trying to kill them so that they would be the ones to survive the Games could see them as well.

            And he hadn’t been able to see it but he’d heard enough about it to remember the “added bonus feature” that had been included in the 71st Hunger Games, the year Johanna Mason had managed to win by convincing everyone she wasn’t worth paying attention to before killing everyone, when the Capitol had put some sort of dye all over the Tributes clothing which had glowed at night.

            Yeah.

            They’d been visible at night.

            Lack of sleep had been a big problem that year from what he could remember, all of them having to stay on their guard as much and as long as possible because they could be found out at night a lot easier than they could during the day.

            Perhaps being dressed in his least favourite colour and covered in useless pockets wasn't such a bad thing after all, all things considered…

            His breath caught in his throat as he heard the lightest of footsteps rapidly approaching the supply mountain from somewhere to his right, pausing briefly when they reached the minefield before continuing in a familiar pattern of hops and jumps which told Adya that their guest knew exactly how to navigate their homemade minefield without getting blown up, using the route planned out by Sam.

            They were also able to do it so quickly and quietly that Sam, who was still rolling his spear up and down his thighs, hadn't even noticed.

            Adya continued to listen as the girl, judging by the pitch and tone of the gasping breaths, snatched whatever she had come for from the supply mountain before jumping down with a soft thud and a slight whimper.

            This finally caught Sam’s attention.

            “What was that?” the younger boy asked just as the girl sprinted into the woods directly behind Adya, her bounty clunking loudly in her hands as she moved despite her obvious attempts to silence it.

            A smile spread across his face.

            To pull off a move like that, coming in and snatching supplies away without being seen or caught, must have taken a serious amount of a lot of skill, a significant amount of patience and a heck of a lot of nerve and for that she deserved…

            “What was what?” he asked, feigning obliviousness. “I didn't hear anything.”

            “I could have sworn I heard something…” Sam sighed deeply before getting up from his seat, turning to face Adya as he continued somewhat awkwardly, “I…um…I need to answer a call of nature. I won't go far.”

            “Ok.”

            He listened to his friend’s careful footsteps as he made his way into the small copse of trees beside the lake, obviously wanting to have a little privacy despite the fact that the one person close enough to see him in person was completely blind.

            Tilting his head up towards the sun he tried to focus on any sound but those made by his young friend answering his call of nature to make things a little less awkward and, much to his surprise, found himself picking out the sound of soft footsteps approaching from somewhere in front of him.

            ...who was that?

            It definitely wasn't Sam who was still “busy”, nor were the footsteps heavy enough to be any of the Careers returning and he seriously doubted their previous visitor could have made it around the clearing that quickly.

            Who _was_ that?

            Adya frowned, tilting his head towards the sounds in the hope of hearing something that would give him a clue as to whether or not he should be worried.

            He heard the footsteps stop just outside the clearing.

            He heard someone shifting around and then the unmistakable sounds of a bow string being drawn tight, an arrow dragging against the side of the bow before suddenly being released, sending the deadly projectile flying through the air.

            No!

            His body stiffened automatically as he waited for the arrow to meet its mark…only for it to miss his body entirely and land somewhere behind him.

            In fact it appeared that their second visitor, and given the choice of weapon he had a pretty good idea just who that visitor was, wasn't even aiming at him despite the fact that he was an obvious target.

            She was aiming at something on the supply mountain.

            Trembling from head to foot he rose to his feet, preparing to call out for Sam when he heard fire off a second arrow and this time he could make out which direction it was travelling, his heightened sense of hearing following it all the way to the supply mountain where it apparently met its target.

            Something tore loudly and moments later he heard the sounds of something bouncing down the cases and boxes that had been piled up on top of each other…             Down towards the mines surrounding the supply mountain…

            Oh…

            The mines…

            He barely had time to turn away from the supply mountain, his voice breaking as he finally called out frantically for his friend, before his voice was drowned out by the most terrifyingly sound he had ever heard.

            Something hot and sharp slammed into his back, what felt like dozens of deadly points driving in deep into his body with enough force to send him flying forwards into the dirt with a cry of pain, his forehead colliding with a rock and sending even more blinding pain flooding through his senses.

            This…this was not how he had expected this to happen…

            He felt sick…

            The pain…the pain was too much…

            A strange feeling spread quickly throughout his body, dragging him towards a blissful oblivion where he just knew that the pain would be unable to follow him and it was all he could do to moan one single word before he was dragged under.

            “Cato…”

 

 

A/N …I'm sorry? I did try to warn you what was coming without giving it away…although I would definitely recommend tissues whilst reading the final chapter. I know everyone loves Adya and wants him to win but…well…yeah…I’m not gonna say any more right now. You’re just going to have to read the final chapter. X

 


	21. The Arena, Day Eight

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Hunger Games or any of its characters. The many OC’s, however, are mine. :-)

Summary: Adya knew the moment his name was picked out of the bowl that he would not be coming back from the 74th Hunger Games…

**WARNINGS: SLASH! (M/M) VIOLENCE! ANGST! CHARACTER DEATH!**

****

** No One Knows Who I Am **

****

** The Arena, Day Eight **

_He could see._ __  
  
_What an odd thought to have, Adya mused silently to himself as he made his way through the front door of the little apartment his family had called home for his entire life, but it was true._  
   
_For the first time in years he could see._  
   
_How strange…_  
   
_“Adya?”_  
   
_The painfully familiar yet also worryingly unfamiliar voice stopped him in his tracks just as he stepped into the tiny front room of the apartment, taking in the faded colours of the walls and ceilings, both marred by large stains as well as splotches of mould and the scratched wooden flooring._  
   
_“Mum?”_  
   
_Turning on the spot he found himself gazing through into the open plan kitchen of their apartment, usually separated from the front room where Adya slept on the lumpy old couch which had always smelt a little weird, and finding his mum bent over the sink, her hands practically glowing red with how sore they were after scrubbing what appeared to be one of his father shirts against the washboard._  
   
_“You're home early love…”_  
   
_Something flickered in the corner of his eye, drawing his attention back to the front room which had been overwhelmed by flames in the blink of an eye._  
  __  
_This wasn't…this wasn't how it had happened…_  
   
_“Adya!”_  
   
_He frowned, his eyes desperately searching through the flames for the source of the second voice but finding nothing even as his mum continued to prattle on about her day as though nothing were wrong._

_As though her clothes weren't catching fire…_

_As though her skin wasn't beginning to blacken and melt…_  
  
_“Mum!”_  
   
_No!_  
   
_He tried to go to her but as he did the floorboards, weakened by the flames, gave out beneath his feet sending him plummeting into a pit of darkness._  
   
_A canon sounded._  
   
_Hands grabbed hold of his arm, stopping his descent instantly and leaving him struggling to adjust to the fact that he now appeared to be standing perfectly still._  
   
_Inky blackness surrounded him…_

_Pressed down upon him…_

_Left him gasping for air…_  
   
_“Adya!”_  
   
_Suddenly he was being pulled forwards by the hands holding onto his arm, stumbling uncontrollably as his feet caught on numerous lumps and bumps which appeared sporadically in the ground beneath his feet._  
   
_“We have to move!”_  
   
_On and on they ran until suddenly the hands disappeared and a piercing scream filled the air, the sharpness of the noise causing Adya's ears to hurt._  
   
_“Adya…”_  
   
_He knew that voice._  
   
_Opening his mouth he tried to call out, his voice seeming to lodge in his throat as he coughed and spluttered, something thick and foul forcing its way up his throat and coating his lips, dripping down his chin._  
   
_“Adya!”_  
   
_He coughed and coughed, desperately trying to clear his throat so that he could respond but all he managed to do was cover his torso in the foul liquid._  
   
_It took him a few minutes too long to realise it was blood._  
   
_A gentle hand came to rest on the top of his head and he turned to find his mother standing beside him, shining like a beacon in the darkness and looking as serene and peaceful as he'd ever seen her and not at all harmed by the fire._  
   
_“I've never hated the Games as much as I do right at this moment…”_  
  __  
_Looking away from his mum he desperately searched for any sign of the boy he had fallen in love over the last few days, the boy who in a perfect world he'd be able to spend of his life falling more and more in love with him every single day until they were old and grey, desperate to truly see him at last._  
   
_He was met with only inky blackness._  
   
_“I wish there was a way I could protect you from all of this…”_  
   
_A garbled sound escaped his mouth when he tried to call out for Cato, his hands desperately ranching forwards even as he choked on the foul liquid which was starting to taste more and more like blood with each cough that wracked his body._  
   
_Hands came to rest on his shoulders._  
   
_“Adya?”_  
   
_Sam?_  
   
_“Adya?”_  
   
_Cato?_  
   
_“Adya?”_  
   
_His mum moved to stand in front of him, their eyes meeting, locking and when her lips finally moved all three voices came out,_  
   
_“Adya? Adya? Adya? Adya?”_

_Each voice held a different level of concern even as she remained calm._  
   
_He closed his eyes, not wanting to connect their voices with her face anymore._  
   
_“Adya?”_  
   
_A sharp stabbing pain in the centre of his back took him by surprise and, with a garbled cry of pain, he opened his eyes…_

Choking on the blood in his mouth Adya arched up of the hard ground which his back had just come into contact with, whimpering loudly as he struggling breath. 

Trembling hands caught hold of his shoulders, squeezing tightly as they helped him stay upright until a body pressed hesitantly against his back, supporting his body. 

He gasped.

It felt like his back was on fire, the pain was so intense and yes, he did know what that actually felt like so it was very easy to make the comparison. 

“Adya…”

Sam’s voice was trembling as much as his hands as the younger boy attempted to wipe away some of the blood dripping from his lips only for it to be instantly replaced by even more as Adya was forced to cough in order to clear is airway.A choked sob escaped his young friend.

“I'm sorry,” he gasped, his hands now moving across Adya's heaving chest as he allowed the wounded boy to lean back against him fully. “I'm so sorry…”

“Not…your fault…” Adya managed to get out between pained grunts and wet coughs, bubbles in the blood popping as he spoke and sending tiny spatter of blood across his cheeks. “Not…not anyone's…fault…just…”

He broke off with a deep cough, his lungs seizing and stilling for a terrifyingly long moment before he was finally able to draw in a pathetic amount of precious air. 

“Adya…” 

Sam was barely holding back his sobs now and hot tears fell against the bare skin of Adya's neck, an odd sensation when combined with the slick blood dripping down his chest, his clothes soaking it up so much that they had begun to stick to his skin. 

“Hurts…” he couldn't help but whimper as another stab of pain seemed to pass through his body, starting out in his back and ending somewhere in his stomach. “Didn't…didn't think it'd be…like this…wanted it to…to…to…”

He whimpered, tears forcing their way out of his sightless eyes as another stab of pain spread through his right shoulder, causing the limb in question to flail uncontrollably against his side, his hand starting to go numb.

“…to be…quick and…pain…painless…” he managed to forced out, shutting his eyes as he tried to hold back a cry of pain, clenching his teeth and locking his jaw even as he was forced to cough once more to clear the blood from his lungs. “I don't…”

“Adya!” 

Cato's almost hysterical scream preceded him actually entering the clearing surrounding the Cornucopia, his footsteps heavy and unsteady as he skirted the damage left behind from the explosion and hurried across to where Sam was cradling Adya in his arms, the young boys trembling increasing the closer he got.

“Adya!” 

This time it was as though his name had been punched out of Cato's gut, deep and filled with more pain than Adya had ever heard in someone else's voice. 

Sam shifted beneath him.

“I…”

Sam’s hesitant voice cut off with a sudden cry of fear, his body disappearing suddenly from beneath Adya's as though he had been literally yanked out from under the wounded Tribute and sending Adya crashing down to the ground with a choked cry of pain, blood spraying up from his mouth as he coughed yet again and falling down against his face and neck. 

Something crunched loudly seconds before something heavy was dropped onto the ground a couple of paces away from where Adya was lying and it took him a couple of seconds to realise that he couldn't hear Sam anymore.

Not even the younger boys frightened breathing. 

“S-Sam…?” 

A body dropped down onto its knees beside him and gentle hands pulled him up so that his head was pillowed on a pair of strong thighs before attempting to wipe away the worst of the blood like Sam had done only moments before.

Sam…

“What…what did…?”

“He's dead.”

Cato's voice sounded almost hollow as his hands continued to move across Adya's body, gently reaching under him and searching out the worst of his wounds. 

It didn't matter how gentle he was, though, it still felt like agony to Adya. 

Crying out he turned his head to press his face against Cato's thigh, blood dribbling almost constantly out of the corner of his mouth and down his cheek. 

“Adya…”

“Quick?” he managed to ask, his hands moving to clutch at Cato’s forearms when the Career finally stilled, his arms cradling Adya's body gently. “Sam…was it…?”

“I broke his neck,” Cato responded, his voice choked. “He wouldn't have felt a thing.” 

Adya tried to smile but at that moment a lancing pain spread throughout his lungs, freezing them in place until it had passed and leaving him gasping for air. 

“Adya!” Cato cried out worriedly. 

“Hurts…” 

“Who did this?” 

Surprisingly it wasn't Cato who asked but Marvel sounding surprisingly angry. 

“…bow…” Adya choked out. “…shot at…”

Thankfully that was all the three Careers needed to hear to get their answer.

“Find her!” Cato barked sharply, his hands tightening briefly on Adya's body as Marvel and Clove turned and left the clearing without another word, causing Adya to whimper ever so slightly in pain. “Adya, I'm sorry…”

“Not…your fault…” Adya repeated the same words he'd offered Sam moments earlier, reaching out with one hand to find his boyfriends face with the arm he could still move and feel, frowning as he found the older boys cheeks wet with tears. “Not…not anyone's…fault…s’just the way it is…in the G-Games…”

“I was going to win this for you,” Cato sobbed, not even attempting to hide his emotions now that they were alone and he didn't feel the need to keep up the act of being a Career Tribute any more.

Now he was just a boy.

“I was going to get you home…”

“I am going home…” Adya mumbled before giving in to the urge to cough up more blood, gasping at the new pain this created somewhere inside him. “It hurts…” 

Sobbing almost uncontrollably the older boy leaned down to press their lips together, heedless of the blood still dripping from the corners of Adya's mouth. 

“I'm sorry…” he gasped against Adya's lips. “I'm sorry I wasn't here. I'm sorry I could stop her. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I can't…”

“Shhh…” Adya murmured, pressing his fingers across Cato's lips. “It's ok…”

“It's not ok!” Cato choked loudly.

“Yes, it is…” Adya murmured, offering his boyfriend a sad smile as he gently began running his fingertips across Cato's quivering lips. “I knew the…the moment that my name…was…was c-called out that there was…” 

He broke off, coughing sharply and uncontrollably. 

“…that there was no way I was going to be coming home in…anything but a coffin…”

“I was going to save you…” 

Smiling sadly he spoke truthfully and honestly,

“You did. You did save me, Cato, and I…I have felt more…alive and at…at peace these past few days with you…than I have in…in the three years since…since I…”

Unfortunately the pain was such that he could continue. 

He could only hope that Cato understood. 

“You made me feel human,” Cato murmured softly before pressing their lips together again. “You made me feel loved and…and I'll never forget that. I just wish…” 

“I want you to try and…win this thing…for yourself now…” Adya literally had to force the words out, the pain almost too much. “I want you to live and…remember me…”

“I could never forget you…”

They kissed again, only breaking apart when Adya coughed up blood against his boyfriend’s lips for which he tried to apologise but was reduced to more coughing. 

“I love you, Adya…” 

“…love you too…” he finally managed to get out, his lungs now feeling as though they were filled with shards of glass. “C-Cato?”

“Yes, love?”

It was too much.

The pain…

The fear…

The longing…

He just wanted it to be over.

“It hurts…” he whimpered, tears flooding from his eyes. “Please…make it stop…”

Cato's breath seemed to get stuck in his chest for a long moment before he released it in a long stream of air and even that seemed to be filled with pain. 

“Adya…” 

“Please…” 

He heard Cato reach out slowly and pick up the sword he had obviously abandoned when he dropped down beside him, dragging the tip across the scorched earth before slowly, hesitantly bringing it up to press against the centre of his chest. 

“I love you, Adya,” Cato all but sobbed, leaning down to press their lips together in a demanding yet gentle kiss, lingering as long as possible. “I love you.”

Adya smiled sadly.

“I love you too, Cato.”

Silence fell between them and Adya found himself picking out the sound of the birds singing happily in the trees, their light voices helping to ease his building fear.

Suddenly there was sharp pain in the centre of his chest, the point of Cato's blade driving deep into his chest in one, smooth movement. 

And then, blissfully, he knew no more.  


**The End**  


**A/N** \- I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Made the mistake of writing this at work between customers who gave me weird looks for being close to tears. Would you believe that this is where I originally intended to leave it? Yup. And then my brain, evil thing that it is, went _“But why? You know they'll never forgive you. Write a sequel. Go on. Here's a couple of really tempting ideas that I know you won't be able to turn down…”_ And so, sometime in the near distant future, a sequel will begin for those of you who want to read it. I hope you've enjoyed reading my first Hunger Games story. Going to go and write something sickeningly cheerful now to recover from this emotional roller coaster. X


End file.
